


Mermaids, Sirens, and Fishermen

by TheMagpieMethod



Series: Moonsun [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 72nd Hunger Games, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagpieMethod/pseuds/TheMagpieMethod
Summary: Now that she recalled, that had been the first time she had met Finnick, well officially, she knew of him of course and had interacted with him briefly when he had delivered Annie back to her family. In fact it was a wonder they had never talked to each other before, they shared various acquaintances and friends. It was like they were always standing at their peripherals.
Relationships: Finnick Odair/Darya Marlowe, Finnick Odair/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Moonsun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812055
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Darya Marlowe could not sleep. Insomnia was her companion for as long as she could remember, if the moon was up, so was she. She recalled countless times she was reprimanded at school for falling asleep in class, but regardless of the punishment she refused to stop staying up, it was so much better to swim at night anyways than it was to dream. Sighing hopelessly, Darya pulled the covers off and got up. “It’s no use,” she muttered to herself as she walked around the bed toward the open window and stuck her head out, inhaling deeply. The salty air and crashing waves beckoned her to the ocean and she couldn’t find it in herself to even pretend to feel guilty about it, tomorrow was the reaping, she should be sleeping, she should be making sure she was well rested for Annie. Annie Cresta was Darya’s cousin, Annie’s father and Darya’s mother were siblings, were, she emphasized to herself, her mother had died trying to save a drowning girl. The little blue-eyed girl had made it, her mother had not, it was always ironic whenever a District 4 person drowned and died, few ever did, some came close, but almost no one ever actually died. You were more likely to die in the games than you were to drown, Darya scoffed a bitter laugh at the irony, her life was full of ironies, like Annie, sweet and kind Annie, who had always lived a more sheltered life than her. Annie who had both her parents and her two little brothers and sister, who had always lived in more comfort than most, poor Annie that had made it to eighteen without having been picked for the games, until she was, two years ago. Letting out another sigh, she seemed to be doing that a lot lately, Darya pushed herself away from the window and made her way to her open bedroom door exiting and heading toward the staircase, making sure she was especially quiet as she passed Annie’s door and made her way down the stairs. Two years, she thought, seems to be the timeframe for her before thing go bad. Darya thought back to the time she was twelve, when her father died lost at sea during a storm in a fishing trip gone bad, she wasn’t the only one, many lost their fathers that day. Then her mother followed two years later, leaving her and her brother orphans, her uncle took them in though, saving them from being put in the “academy”, the school for career tributes. But then Annie was reaped, along with her brother Fen, strong and handsome Fen who died so savagely protecting Annie, poor Annie who came back broken and mad.  
Shaking her thoughts away, feeling already too dry and restless, she picked up her pace as she walked to the end of the Victor’s Village, running to the beach when she finally saw the ocean, ripping off her clothes as she now sprinted to the water. She dove in, her splash muffled to her ears, as the cool water enveloped her, quieting and shielding her from the world above her. Darya dove deeper and deeper until she reached the ocean floor and looked up, she could barely make out the surface, her only notion was the bit of light from the moon, the full moon would be coming soon, was her last thought before she kicked off the floor and swam her way back up. When she reached the surface she took a deep breath intent on diving again when she noticed a warm light swaying further into the ocean, she knew it was too early for the boats to be out, curious she started swimming toward it. As she swam closer Darya realized she had underestimated its distance, turning she found herself miles from the shore and though she had swam in open water before, she had never done it this far in at night, as she was debating whether to head back or continue, her thought process was broken by a splash behind her. The sound made her mind up for her, her curiosity peaked again, she swam closer to the light and realized it was coming from a lantern hanging off an awning on a boat, as she waded closer she also realized that a huge rock formation stood behind the boat, the mouth of a cave barely being made out by the slight light hitting it. Hearing a man’s voice cursing followed shortly by another splash, Darya was only able to make out something glittering before it disappeared in the water, on instinct she dove in to retrieve it. She knew the faster you picked up a fallen object the better, especially in water and even more so at night, she pushed in deeper until she spotted it and found it tangled on a net, it was heavier than she thought, untangling it she realized it was a trident, an expensive one. Suddenly, she felt the net rising and wrapping itself around her, she looked up and saw the water darkening above her, before it completely wrapped around her and was suddenly pulled rapidly up. Panicking, she found herself bunched up with some large fish, their spiked tails cutting into her naked body. Her lungs screamed in retaliation of the lack of oxygen, with barely enough room to move, she wiggled herself up trying to maneuver her position. Darya, could feel the push of gravity start to increase, she frantically tried to ensure she reached the surface first, so she could take a breath and so the weight of the fish wouldn’t crush her when she reached the top.  
As soon as she felt the air on her lips, she took in gulping big breaths, her vision was slowly becoming less blurry and her head less dizzy but a sharp gasp made her finally focus her eyes, her hazel meeting sea green. Finnick Odair stood, ropes wrapped around his muscled arms with his mouth gaping in shock at Darya, they both froze just staring at each other, then he gave an incredulous huff and made as if to speak before being interrupted by Darya’s screams.  
“Shut your gaping fish mouth Finnick Odair and get me out of here!” Darya angrily shouted; her voice strained by the pressure of the fish surrounding her.  
At her command Finnick shut his mouth firmly, nodded, and pulled, steadfastly and skillfully he maneuvered the net onto the boat, letting go as gently but as quickly as he could. Once the net was released and open, he ran toward the slowly rising body in front of him.  
Darya sat up softly and took a couple more deep breaths, while she took in the damage to her arms and legs, ‘great’, she thought bitterly, she was bleeding slightly from various scratches, she wouldn’t scar at least, but she definitely wouldn’t look her “best” for the reaping ceremony. She made to stand but her legs buckled slightly, a pair of strong arms steadied her, one grasping her arm the other her waist, the hands warm on her pale cool body. Darya looked up to see Finnick staring at her face concernedly but also pointedly at nothing else, his curls moving with the breeze. She felt the cool air on her bare back, and she shivered, that’s when she remembered, she was naked.  
Finnick felt Darya shiver and instinctually his hands tightened on her body, their eyes still glued to each other, he gulped and started to speak.  
“Dar-,” he started before Darya interrupted.  
“Take off your shirt,” Darya said quietly.  
“Wh-, what” Finnick responded smartly his voice hitching at the request.  
“Take off your shirt Finnick,” Darya said clearing her throat, her cheeks tinged the slightest bit pink, “I need it.”  
Finnick continued to look at her at her face intently, his grip still firm on her arm and waist.  
“My shirt -,” he repeated stupidly, before Darya spoke again.  
“I’m cold.” Darya said pointedly, her cheeks now flaming red.  
“Oh, right, ahem,” he said embarrassedly gently releasing her and slipping his shirt over his head before handing it to her sheepishly and turning around to give her privacy.  
Darya quickly scrambled to put Finnick’s shirt on, it fitting her more like dress and coming to her mid-thigh, it was warm. Once she was covered up, she gave an awkward cough to signal it was safe for him to turn around.  
He did, his hand scratching at the back of his neck looking both embarrassed and amused, his cheek dimpled as he quirked a smile. Darya held her arm, also embarrassed, a nervous laugh threatening to erupt over the absurdity of the whole situation, instead she offered up a raised eyebrow, a jutted hip and crossed arms.  
“I-I’m sorry Darya, I didn’t know there was anyone else here.” Finnick said sheepishly, her face and stance making him feel like a scolded schoolboy, “I didn’t see your boat.”  
“No, I didn’t, I swam, no I’m sorry, you weren’t to know, I should have called out, you dropped, oh-” Darya answered rambling, feeling bad for making him think she was really angry, before remembering his trident and hurriedly made to find it, before spotting it glittering under some of the flopping fish. She quickly retrieved it and made her way to hand it back to its owner but Finnick’s gaze stopped her short.  
“What?” she asked, now feeling self-conscious.  
“You look like a mermaid Dar.” He said softly, continuing to stare, then as if remembering himself added teasingly “and you swim like one too, five miles, impressive Marlowe.  
She rolled her eyes. She supposed she probably did with her pale, almost translucent skin, and her thick, long, dark hair that reached her lower back, holding a trident didn’t help. The kids at school used to make fun of her coloring, Fen used to always tell her that she had been found on the shore, that she had been gifted from the sea, that she was a mermaid and that’s why she looked so different to everyone else, that that’s why she had dark hair and was so pale compared the rest of District 4. It had been years since anyone had called her that, she had almost forgotten that story.  
“C’mon,” Finnick said and gestured her over, “the sun is starting to rise.”  
And it was, Darya could see the hint of yellow painting the sky green, it was dawn. She nodded in agreement and made her way over to him and handed him the trident, their hands touching briefly. He was warm and she was cool, they shared a short look communicating their agreement to go. Finnick pulled the anchor up and Darya made her way to the wheel ready to navigate them back, it was late and the reaping was today.  
Looking back at Finnick, who nodded his assent to start moving, Darya turned the wheel and started to lead the boat back home while Finnick speared the remaining live fish. She realized they were Yellowfish Tuna, her favorite. Then she remembered, the District 4 victors had a tradition, they would take turns going out fishing the night before the games for the rest of the group, the chosen person dividing and dropping off the haul to each of the other victors home in time for breakfast.  
Last year it had been Annie’s turn, it had taken Darya months to be able to get Annie to even touch the water, she still wouldn’t go into the water unless someone else was with her, but Annie panicked so Darya did it for her, she hadn’t had any luck with fish that night but she had managed to find a large oyster reef, not uncommon but a very special treat and the victors had been more than pleased.  
Keeping her stance steady Darya drove the boat expertly and continued to lead the boat toward land.  
Now that she recalled, that had been the first time she had met Finnick, well officially, she knew of him of course and had interacted with him briefly when he had delivered Annie back to her family. In fact it was a wonder they had never talked to each other before, they shared various acquaintances and friends. Their fathers had been good friends and they had worked together, they both were on the same boat the day of the accident. Now that she thought about it, she vaguely remembered seeing a sad, copper haired boy with sea green eyes at the funeral, Mags had been standing with him. That’s how they had been officially introduced, at Mags house, Darya had arrived with a netted bag full of oysters and Finnick had been sitting at the kitchen table surprised to see her enter. Mags who had been making tea had invited her in and formally introduced the two, mentioning that Finnick loved oysters, Darya had smiled kindly and exited the house briefly only to come back with two other bags and handing it to him. She had stayed only for tea, enough only for some light chatting, and then had excused herself to finish delivering the rest of the bags.  
As if summoning her with her thoughts, Darya noticed the elderly woman appear, standing on the sand waving at them with a beaming toothless smile. Darya couldn’t help but smile back, hearing a chuckle behind her she assumed neither had Finnick. As she stationed the boat back to shore, she noticed briefly from the corner of her eye Finnick hopping off and tying the boat to the closest wooden post. Darya walked back to the stern and released the anchor from its hold before making her way back finding Finnick crating the last of the fish, Mags watching pleasantly on, before beaming when taking in Darya’s presence.  
A surge of affection for the old woman hit Darya so suddenly she wanted to cry, they had almost lost her to a stroke but thankfully she was recuperating nicely, instead she offered a wide grin before getting of the boat and running up to her to hug her tightly. A little taken back but extremely pleased Mags returned the gesture just as firmly. Mags may as well be her family for all intents and purposes, she had taught her how to weave nets and fashion fishhooks out of anything, just like she had taught her mother. Breaking the embrace gently, Mags brought her wizened hands softly to Darya’s face and patted her cheek lovingly before looking down. Smiling cheekily, before pulling on her clothes and speaking in her choppy breathy way, “Soots you.” Looking down at herself, Darya laughs and blushes at being seen with nothing but Finnick’s shirt on.  
Footsteps muffled by sand approach them and they both turn to look at a shirtless Finnick carrying a crate, Mags smiling wickedly and Darya blushing once more as he nears them. Finnick greets Mags with a peck on the cheek before showing her the fish he caught.  
“Got a good haul today Mags, best catch I’ve made this year,” Finnick says pleased.  
“Kuta mermay too?” Mags answers pointing at Darya, knowingly.  
Finnick laughs amused, a faint hint of pink on his sun kissed cheeks, “Yeah Mags, caught a mermaid too, anyway I’m heading out, I’ve got to drop these off,” he said lifting the crate of Yellowfish before finishing the conversation as he walked himself slowly backwards, “yours or mine?”  
Mags points at Finnick, Finnick nods in understanding before looking to Darya grinning, “You and Annie come too.” And without waiting for an answer Finnick turns and walks away.  
Confused Darya looks to Mags, who answers by motioning her hand to her mouth, breakfast, comprehension dawns on Darya’s face and she smiles shyly. Mags nudges her and points to a pile of neatly folded clothes on the sand, Darya realizes it is her clothes and blushes once more. Smiling at Mags gratefully, she picks up the clothes in one hand and offers her free hand to Mags, who takes it. Holding hands, they walk back to the Victor’s village together.


	2. Chapter 2: Finnick

Finnick Odair had had to deal with a lot in his life, first the Hunger Games, then the death of his mother and father after he had refused Snow, and then his body being sold to the highest bidder, but despite all of these things he counted himself lucky that he was still able to find some things to make him happy. Like Mags, who loved him unconditionally, the peace that his boat on the ocean brought him and the comfort his district afforded him in familiarity and in distance from the dreaded capitol. Despite everything, they hadn’t really broken him. Stripped him yes, sullied him and used him, but they hadn’t actually broken him deep down, not like his reputation.  
He had survived that and more, but the one thing Finnick still wasn’t used to was leading children to their imminent death, or the possibility of an even worse fate every year. The guilt is what always had him teetering at the edge, he wasn’t broken, but he was fragmented and cracked, like the other victors he surmised, but the constant repetition of coming back empty handed and delivering the families their dead children’s tokens as if it in some way made up for their loss, made him sick. Sick and disappointed and guilty, always guilty, that he could have done more, that if he had only tried harder for sponsors or trained them harder, if he only had more time, that maybe, maybe they wouldn’t have died.  
Then after so many failures he had finally succeeded.  
At first, he had been hopeful with Annie and Fen, they were both eighteen for starters and both were more than willing to try to fight, Fen especially was promising, he was strong and smart and charming. And Fen and Annie were cousins, he was able to sell that to the sponsors, but they were family and when it came down to it, that was their downfall. Fen died saving Annie, he was able to take down three of the careers by himself before the boy from 1 decapitated him, and Annie had lost it, she would have died too, the district 1 boy’s sword was angled to kill her, but then the earthquake happened and the tidal wave came, and Annie outswam them all.  
He had finally succeeded, but winning was so much worse, Annie had made it, but at a price, traumatized by her whole experience, he had delivered a broken victor home. When he had to deliver poor Annie to her family, the change was more than apparent, and the guilt was all encompassing, she may as well died with her cousin, because he had delivered just a shell of a person. The matter made even worse, when he had to watch them grieve not one but two losses, delivering Fen’s token was the worst part. He could see it in their faces, the shame of feeling relieved that their daughter was alive when their nephew was dead, he saw the guilt crawl into their faces, and that for Finnick was when he felt himself really breaking. His guilt was contagious, and he hated it, he hated the whole situation, and he was angry, at Snow and the Capitol, but even more, he was angriest at himself. He hadn’t even realized that he had started crying too until a tear fell on his hand, and then he hated himself, because how dare he be so selfish and cry, when the family in front of him was the one suffering and had an actual reason to. So he felt himself shut down and give in to the cracks and allowed himself to break and give up. Then the family shuffled out of the room and he just stood there, his eyes dead and unblinking, and then he had noticed her. Darya Marlowe, Fen’s sister, he had seen her before, he had known her father, he had worked with his. He had died along with his father in the accident Snow had orchestrated because of him.  
“I’m sorry,” said Finnick, his whisper sounding loud as it echoed in the empty room, surprising him and her, both of them jumping at his voice. Finnick gulped nervously waiting for her reaction, he hadn’t meant to speak aloud, he braced himself for her onslaught of insults and yells or maybe if he was lucky, she might even hit him. He watched her form lean toward the table and pick up something before side stepping the table gracefully and making her way toward him until she stopped a foot in front of him and finally looked up. His eyes met hers and Finnick’s first thought was that her eyes held more green than gold but that they were brown enough to still be considered hazel. Her skin was so pale that she seemed to glow, but her hair was the exact opposite, her hair so dark that it made the shadows almost gray in comparison of her black waves. Her coloring was so different from the rest of 4, everyone else with sun bleached hair, the darkest hair colors being brownish reds, and their sun darkened skins, their lightest being glowing tans like Finnick’s, that he was convinced she had to have been gifted by the female sea goddess from the old stories.  
She stepped closer and raised her hands, Finnick closed his eyes tightly waiting for her to slap him, instead he felt her slip something over his head, he opened his eyes in surprise and looked down, it was Fen’s token. He watched her pale hands fix the fish pendant to face out properly and lay flat on his chest, and then she spoke and Finnick was more convinced than ever that she had to be other worldly, her voice both soft and soothing like the waves that must have gently pushed her to shore.  
“Yellowfish, they were Fen’s favorite, mine too.” She said smiling sadly.  
Finnick could only stare at her not knowing what to do, he didn’t know what to say, none of this was going the way he expected, he was waiting for the screams, to be blamed, instead she took him completely off guard and gently embraced him in a hug. Finnick’s body stiffened at her touch and he felt her hold him tighter, and then Finnick felt all his broken parts gluing themselves together and he could finally breath, he hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath, his exhales hitching with held back tears.  
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she held him swallowing roughly, tears streaming down her face, before continuing, “for F-Fen and Annie, thank you.”  
At her words, Finnick returned her embrace desperately, his sobs joining hers in a heart-breaking harmony, and they held each other, until they reduced their sobs to small sniffles, and then she let him go. She parted, with a final squeeze of his hand, and he watched her walk away gracefully, her figure gliding from the room, confident and unfaltering, she never stopped to look back. Finnick hadn’t realized until that moment how much he craved to be held.  
After that Finnick found himself constantly looking out for her, but she always seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if his past thoughts of her summoned her existence randomly. He noticed her one night at the beach, he was fixing up his newly bought boat, he was just about to call it a day, the sky too dark to be able to do any work anyway, and then he looked out and saw her. He watched as she dove into the water and felt silly when he realized he had been holding his breath with her, breathing only when she came back up for air. She was a good swimmer, and then he remembered, she would be, her mother had been a swimming instructor, she had taught him, then he remembered her hazel eyes, he wondered if she knew she had her mother’s eyes. He scoffed at himself, of course she did, it was her mother after all. It was late when he realized he had been sitting in his boat for hours just watching her swim.  
Soon after that, Finnick noticed her everywhere, he would see her at the Market Square sometimes, shopping with her little cousins or at the weekend bazaar selling her pretty patterned nets and jewelry. She was very skilled in weaving nets, he could see them spread out on display, some patterned with sea creatures others with fishing tools, or boats, he wasn’t the only one to notice he realized, she almost always sold out, he wondered if Mags had taught her too. Finnick had posed this question to Mags one night, when he was fixing dinner for them at her house, he didn’t know why, but he blushed when Mags had given him an appraising look before offering him a knowing smile. She informed him that she had, and that Darya’s late grandmother, had been her best friend, she was the one who taught Mags how to make nets, and that Darya’s mother had been her goddaughter and Mags had taught her. When Mags had asked him why he was so interested, he said he had been thinking of buying one of the green nets for his boat. The next time he saw Mags she was standing next to his boat, he had just gotten back from the capitol, he reeked of the sickly sweet stench of synthetic roses and he was desperate to get on his boat and cleanse himself of it in the ocean, she nonchalantly handed him a sturdy green net and left, when he opened it he noticed it was patterned with little woven tridents, it made him smile.  
The first time he sees her up close again she catches him off guard, Mags had invited him over for breakfast before the reaping, he was having an especially tough time shaking his bad mood after having spent a month at the capitol, then guiltily, he remembers Annie and Fen. Then the only thing he can think of is her and her hug when she suddenly appears and is standing before him. She is carrying a bag of fresh oysters, her hair still wet from her excursion, she’s barefoot and her summery white dress clings to her, outlining her form. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s slightly out of breath, but she smiles prettily at them and Finnick feels something in his stomach, he figures he must be hungry and realizes he hasn’t eaten in days. He briefly heard Mags says his name, but he’s not really paying attention and then she’s smiling at him and he realizes she must have said something, but before he can sputter some form of answer she’s gone. He looks to Mags confused.  
“Wha-,”He starts to say but is interrupted by her return, she’s carrying more bags of oysters and she hands them to him, he takes them dumbly, her supple fingers briefly brushing his, and then his stomach growls. He blushes, embarrassed, but her laugh stops him dead in his tracks and he can’t help but join her, it’s the first time he’s smiled in weeks. Mags looks pleased and a little relieved he realizes; Mags places a mug filled with tea in front of her and hands Finnick an oyster knife. She drinks her tea and he eats oysters and Mags listens happily as they speak about anything and nothing, and then she excuses herself and she’s gone, and she doesn’t look back.  
And that’s how it starts, now when he sees her shopping with her cousins, he goes up to her and talks, sometimes shopping with her. Now he finds himself almost every weekend visiting her at her stand, watching her weave stones, shells, beads and string into intricate jewelry, sometimes he even helps her set up or clean up.  
He finds out they’ve been neighbors this whole time, that she’s been living with Annie and that for some reason whenever he had gone to visit Annie, she had been out or had been sleeping. He finds out that she loves to swim at night and that she’s a night owl, that that’s why she’s the one to live with Annie and comfort her whenever she has nightmares, because she is already up. Somehow, he finds himself staying over later and later until finally he ends up staying the night and helping her comfort Annie when she has nightmares.  
And after months and months he finally tells her about Snow, and what he makes him do, and how her father and his died because of him, and she just holds him while he cries and tells him it’s not his fault.  
And when he has to leave because his company has been requested, she gifts him a cologne that smells like the sea and cedar to help him think of home, in return he brings her back intricate bottles so she can experiment with scents at home. Who knew Darya Marlowe would end up being his best friend, two years after that fateful day in that dark room in the Justice Building.  
Finnick curses when he trips over one of the crates on his boat his trident flying over his head and into the water. That’s what he gets for getting nostalgic he thinks, it’s reaping day today and he’s not particularly looking forward to it, he never is, the only comfort he can find with any of it selfishly is that Snow won’t be selling his company for the duration of it. That and this is Darya’s last year of eligibility, which means she’ll soon be free of the games and Finnick, Annie and Mags won’t have to worry about her.  
Finnick’s thoughts are broken when he notices the net moving and going taut, jumping up and dusting himself off he wraps the ropes around his arms and starts pulling, whatever is in the net feels heavier than usual, which pleases Finnick. They’ll have enough to can and dry and smoke for Darya’s birthday feast in three months.  
Finnick pulls and pulls until finally the full net is suspended in the air, Finnick looks at his catch trying to estimate how many he’s caught, when a familiar face catches his eyes and he hears himself gasp as he dropping his jaw in shock. Their eyes lock and Finnick can’t believe the absurdity of the correlation between his thoughts of her and her appearance that he has to laugh in incredulity. He wants to say something stupid like, ‘If you wanted to catch up all you had to do was ask’, or ‘Now that you’re all up caught up, how goes it with you’ but then she yells at him to get her down and he quickly does what she says.  
'She’s kind of cute when she’s angry', quickly flits through his mind before he notices she’s struggling to stand, and he brushes those thoughts aside and runs toward her to help.


	3. Chapter 3: The Reaping

After dropping off Mags at her house, Darya quickly makes her way back home, the sun is already up, and she needs to shower and get ready. When she reaches the two-story house she sees that Finnick had already dropped off a crate of fish at their doorstep. Opening the door, quickly she picks up the crate and carries it inside dragging it into the kitchen. Annie hears her come in and quickly moves to help her cousin with the crate, Darya looks up and sees that Annie is already dressed and her hair is braided back. “You look beautiful Annie, yellow really suits you.” Darya compliments. “Oh hush Dar, you go and get ready, I’ll put everything away.” Annie offers blushing but smiling nonetheless as she shoos her cousin out of the kitchen. Darya runs up the stairs and bolts into her room, Annie thankfully had laid out a dress for her to wear, grabbing a clean towel from her closet Darya runs back out and into the bathroom. Slipping out of Finnick’s shirt, which makes her blush again, Darya steps into the shower and rinses off the sea salt from her hair. After she’s dried and dressed, Darya starts working on her still slightly damp hair, sitting on her vanity Darya takes out some pretty dark felt strips, parting her hair she starts weaving them in. Once she’s done, she loops in some of her beaded stones. Grabbing Finnick’s shirt before making her way back downstairs she calls to Annie. “Annie are you finished, I almost forgot to tell you, Finnick invited us over for breakfast.” Darya said hurriedly. When she makes it downstairs, she sees Annie blushing deeply, the phone in her hand quickly hung up. Curious, Darya stops and grins giving her flustered cousin a raised eyebrow before she teasingly breaks the silence. “Should I tell Finnick you can’t make it?” Darya asks cheekily causing Annie to only blush deeper. “Dylan invited me over for breakfast.” Annie answers shyly. Dylan being the blonde boy from Darya’s neighboring stall at the bazaar, he sells fresh bait if she recalls, Finnick sometimes buys some from him. She had seen Dylan and Annie talking before and had noticed them being sweet on each other, but she hadn’t realized there was anything more serious going on. “You don’t mind, do you?” Annie asked nervously, now realizing how unthoughtful she was being at thinking of spending Darya’s last reaping day with Dylan,” I’ll call him back and tell him I can’t.” “Don’t you dare Annie Cresta! And break that poor boy’s heart, go on, I’ll see you after.” Darya answered kindly. Giving her blushing sweet cousin a hug and a kiss, Darya hurried out the door and headed to Finnick’s, his shirt in hand. Annie’s place was the furthest from the beach, but it stood in the same row as Finnick’s, who incidentally was the closest to it, they were all surrounded by the sea though, the Victor’s Village located on the peninsula side of the district, but his living room had the best view in her opinion. Reaching her destination, Darya strolled in without bothering to knock, Mags wasn’t here yet she realized and Finnick wasn’t downstairs, though she did see that he had already prepped everything for their meal. Hearing the shower start upstairs, she decided that frying the fish wouldn’t do well with their freshly showered hair and decided to make a stew instead. Taking out a pot, Darya placed it in the sink and starting pumping water into it then placing it on the stove, igniting the flame, she dropped in the vegetables that Finnick had cut up, for a side dish presumably, and started to cut up the fish to add in. After mixing in all the ingredients and adding some sea salt, she covered it up and let it simmer, so it would be done by the time Finnick made it downstairs and Mags arrived. Lifting Finnick’s shirt from where she had draped it over a dining room chair when she had started cooking, she took it to the small laundry room. The room was quite small in comparison to the other rooms in the house but the small light blue room was one of her favorites, it had a washer and dryer but it also had a decent sized sink with three smooth sides and one ridged. Dropping Finnick’s shirt in, Darya turns on the faucet and lets the water run and soak the shirt, reaching under the sink she takes out a green block of soap. Once Finnick’s shirt is completely drenched, Darya begins lathering it with the bar, once it’s been covered to her satisfaction she sets down the soap and takes one fistful of the shirt in one hand and starts brushing it against the ridged side. Darya brushes, rinses, and lathers and continues in this pattern for a while, the motions meditative to her as she zones out looking out the window above the sink, she can see the sea. A teasing voice breaks Darya from her reverie and she turns her head to the doorway. “I think the shirt is clean Dar.” Finnick says amused, his body leaning on the doorway, arms crossed and an affectionate grin on his face. Darya takes him in, he’s dressed in a nice blue buttoned linen shirt and smart white linen trousers, the clothes are simple but well-made and they fit him well. His water straightened hair is already starting to dry and curl and his white straight teeth smile up to one side dimpling his smoothly shaved cheek. When she reaches his glinting eyes, so reminiscent of the sea, smiling back at her, Darya briefly thinks she wouldn’t mind drowning. Looking at him looking at her like that, makes Darya’s stomach flutter and fill her with the urge to do something, but she’s not so sure what. When she says nothing, curious, Finnick steps into the room and walks closer, she’s standing in front of the only light source in the room and Finnick can’t help but stop and admire her figure haloed by the sun, her dark hair glittering like dark water in the moonlight, her pale skin glowing and her eyes shining like pools of gold in this light, her feminine hands pink and covered in suds. He feels an almost desperate need to touch her, just to make sure she's real. Finnick notices her breathing pick up and he realizes he’s breathing hard too and that he is somehow now standing so close he can feel her breath on his face, even though he doesn’t remember moving. And then she bites her lips and he can’t help but just stare at them and his gaze darkens and his hand lands on her waist and hers on his arms, and then their roaming eyes meet and Finnick feels like the breath has been kicked out of him and her eyes flutter and he feels himself leaning in and then a melodic knock followed by an opening door has them both release each other as if burned. Mags appears in the doorway and can’t help to notice the mixture of relief and annoyance in both of their blushing faces and she grins widely. She decides not to comment on the tension in the room and instead gleefully tells them, “Foo iz dun.” And walks back out into the dining room. Finnick runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat awkwardly the silence in the room suffocating him, breaking it he starts to speak. “Dar-,” he says but is interrupted quickly by Darya. “You go set the table Finnick, I’ll be there in a minute, I’m almost done.” Darya orders gently, her eyes only on the fabric in her hands, she stretches and turns it in her hands firmly, expelling the water from his shirt. Finnick doesn’t move, he wants to say something but he isn’t sure what, he feels like he should apologize or something for what almost happened, but he kind of realizes he doesn’t want to, and that confuses him even more, so with one last look he decides to listen and heads to do just what she asks. After the table has been set, and Mags has been ushered to her seat, Finnick carries the pot of stew and lays it on the marble slab on the center of the table. He’s about to call for Darya, when he sees her walk in, her cheeks faintly blushing as their eyes meet, she offers him a small smile, and he can’t help but feel a great sense of relief. They both sit down and serve themselves some stew and begin to eat, the awkwardness from before gone, the conversation flows nicely, with Mags complimenting Darya on her cooking and Finnick jokingly scolding her for cooking when he was supposed to and insisting he do the dishes. When breakfast is officially over, they move on to the living room, Mags settling in nicely on the couch, their nonsensical chatter lulling her to sleep. Darya smiles affectionately toward Mags sleeping figure and can’t help but let out a soft yawn, she’s tired too, feeling eyes on her she sees Finnick gazing at her in amusement. “You should nap too Dar, you been up all night.” Finnick offers kindly. “So have you.” Darya points out, pouting, causing Finnick to laugh lightly. “I suppose you’re right, but I did sleep yesterday, and I know for a fact you’re on your second night Dar, c’mon.” Finnick says offering her his hand, which she takes softly. Leading her up the stairs and into his room, Finnick offers up his bed, which she takes after some mild convincing. Laying down on the left side of the bed, she sleepily makes out that she has a couple of hours before she supposed to make her way to the reaping. Finnick covers her up with a soft knitted blanket that he’s pretty sure she’s made and makes his way out of the room, closing the door lightly behind him. Grabbing another blanket from a linen closet in the hallway, he makes his way back downstairs and drapes a blanket over Mags too. He heads to kitchen and starts washing the dishes they used for breakfast, when that’s done he heads back to the living room and lays down on the couch opposite where Mags is snoring, laying his arm over his head he lets Mags familiar snores lull him to sleep, his last thought on finding it interesting that Darya likes to sleep on the left side of the bed. When Darya awakens the first thing she notices is that she’s not in her room, then she remembers that she’s at Finnick’s, and that it’s reaping day today. Sitting up quickly she looks to the clock on Finnick’s nightstand, they’ve overslept, it’s past noon. Jumping up from the bed Darya quickly runs to the door, wrenches it open and runs downstairs. Finnick and Mags are both still sleeping, and Darya feels guilty at having to wake them, but she does so anyways, they all need to leave in the next five minutes, especially Darya. Nudging him gently, Darya carefully eases him awake, from experience she knows it is never a good idea to wake him too quickly. “Finnick, Fin wake up.” Darya whispers quietly but urgently. Slowly she sees him stirring, his sleepy eyes opening slightly and staring blearily at her, he gives her a lazy smile. “Bootifull.” He says and he looks so silly and it’s just so Finnick that Darya can’t help but laugh, because of course Finnick Odair’s first instinct when he wakes up is to flirt, even when he should look like fool. “Finnick, get up, we overslept and we’re late.” Darya says a hint of a smile still on her face despite the gravity of the situation. At her words Finnick sits up right away and stares at her seriously, he knows as well as she that if Darya doesn’t show up the consequences will be ghastly. “Run Darya, you go on, I’ll worry about Mags, Go!” Finnick quickly rushes her, pushing her firmly toward the door as he quickly makes his way to Mags. At his command Darya runs out of the house, not stopping to look back, she runs faster than she’s ever run before and even when she gets a stitch on her side and she feels her legs starting to cramp and her feet start to hurt, she doesn’t slow down until she sees the entrance to the square, the Justice Building looming in the background. She’s the last to check in, barely noticing the prick on her finger or the snide remark of her cutting it close from one of the table operators. She quickly makes her way to the 18-year-old women’s section, the other girls shuffle to make room for her, no one says anything, even if they are technically a career district, it’s still Reaping Day. She sees the District 4 escort standing on stage, arms crossed and tapping her foot impatiently before turning to the other four seated victors and asking something, her voice can be made out to them, and Darya holds back a laugh as she realizes that the microphone picks up what she’s saying. “Where is HE, we go live in _five_ minutes people!” she says impatiently. She sees Muscida Selkirk and Librae Ogilvy shrug, biting back smiles. Ron Stafford, the only other male victor from 4, scoffs and answers with an uninterested ‘who cares’, and Annie, distractedly scanning the crowds, assures her that Finnick and Mags would be there soon. She realizes Annie is scanning the crowd looking for her, and guiltily remembers that she was supposed to meet up with her after breakfast, she must be worried. She wants to call out to her or something to tell her she’s here, but can’t figure out a way to let her know without bringing any attention to herself, a relieved voice brings her attention back to the stage. “Finally, I know you love an entrance dear, but really you’re cutting it close!” she hears the escort reprimand, as Finnick struts up the steps with Mags in hand, he answers her by winking. Taking a seat next to Annie after helping Mags to hers, he whispers something that makes Annie release a breath of relief and sit back more relaxed. Darya guesses he told her she had left before them and that she must be in the crowd already. The music starts and Darya straightens her back, there are cameras everywhere, it’s 4’s turn now and she knows the whole Capitol is watching. Mayor Stafford, Ron Stafford’s father, goes up to the podium and starts reciting the usual speech about the history of the hunger games and the “Dark Days”. No one is listening, they never do because no one cares, instead everyone waits in anticipation of who will be chosen this year. She chances a look at some of the people she knows are from the “Academy”. She knows that most of them are orphans like her, a very rare few decide to choose to train to be a career at the “Academy”, if no one claims you when you are orphaned that is where they send you. It supposed to be a comfortable life for the most part, you’ll have plenty to eat and a warm bed at night, but it’s a strict upbringing and you would spend anywhere from eight to twelve hours of day just training, and you were expected to volunteer if a career wasn’t chosen, usually for the younger kids though. Darya and her brother Fen were both saved from that fate by their Uncle Marius, Annie’s father, but sometimes Darya wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t claimed them, and she and Fen had to go to the Academy, if Fen being trained would have meant he would have survived the games longer. She always felt like he would have but she knows deep down he would have never won, Annie was always going to be coming home, he would have made sure of that. Sighing, she makes herself pay attention, if she could just make it through the next thirty minutes and she wasn’t called, she would be safe and it would all be over, and then she could sleep. Setting her eyes on the stage she sees the green haired Escort, Pumpkin something, she can’t remember, utter the infamous words. “And may the odd be ever in your favor!” she announces before moving toward the bowl carrying the boys’ names. She makes a show of it by shaking the names around with her purple clawed hands before she picks one and walks back to the microphone to announce the name. “Gillian Dorsin.” she says clearly in her Capitolian accent. She sees the boys in the group standing next to hers shuffling and moving out of the way, he’s eighteen at least, Darya thinks before she sees him. He’s tall and olive-skinned with wavy brown hair, he would definitely be classified as handsome she thinks. As he makes his way out of the group toward the center of the path that leads to the stage, she can hear people start to whisper around him, he’s a career. At one point he’s standing right across from her and they lock eyes, they’re a striking green, he stares at her only for a second longer before making his way up to the stage. “Lovely, and now for the ladies!” the Escort says after Gillian reaches the stage. She moves to the girls’ bowl now and sticks her hand all the way in before pulling out one of the slips, she taps her way back to the microphone again, Darya feels her heart hammering in her chest. “Brooke Seadee.” the Escort sing songs. Darya exhales relieved, much of the other girls also breathing out in relief too, a few, Darya is disgusted to notice, genuinely disappointed. When she sees the 12-year-old group move and shift, Darya feels her stomach drop in guilt and burn in righteous anger, she’s so little, just like her little red-headed cousins, she thinks before she sees her. She’s thin but healthy, her blonde hair braided in two fishtails, she’s not as tall as the other girls but she’s not the shortest, Darya can’t help but think she’s seen her before. Why isn’t anyone volunteering for her, Darya thinks angrily, those are the rules, so why isn’t anyone saying anything, then she understands, and she figures everyone else does too, by their pained faces, none of the career girls are eligible yet. They all watch her make her way shakily to the stage, her starfish orange dress, somehow garishly macabre in the sea of blues, greens and whites. She’s looks so familiar to Darya she has to rack her brain to figure out where she’s seen her before, maybe she was a school friend of one of her cousins, but she doesn’t remember them ever hanging out with any Brooke. The girl now carefully reaches the stairs, Darya can see her little hands shakily holding the railing as she makes her way up the stage, maybe she stopped by the bazaar one weekend and bought something at her table. The little girl makes it to the stage where the Escort places her in place for the cameras, her eyes are a deep blue, and then Darya freezes, she remembers and her stomach drops and her mouth goes dry, it’s her. _It’s her_ , the little girl from all those years ago, the one who almost drowned, the one who her mother died saving, _it’s her_. Before the Escort can finish asking if there are any volunteers, Darya hears herself shouting. “Me! I volunteer! I volunteer! Please!”


	4. Chapter 4: Saying Goodbye

“Me! I volunteer! I volunteer! Please!” Darya says as she runs to the stage, she sees the Victors stare at her in shock, they recognize her, she can hear Annie start to sob, Finnick and Mags are standing up, she runs up the stairs and as soon as she reaches the stage pushes the girl brusquely toward Finnick, who in his shock, barely manages to catch her. “Get her out of here!” Darya tells Finnick sharply. Darya stands in front of them, blocking them and says again, “I volunteer as tribute.” The Escort stares at her pleased with all the drama she is giving her and eagerly drags Darya to the microphone. “A volunteer! How lovely! Introduce yourself darling!” The Escort asks excitedly, “What’s your name pretty one?” “Darya Marlowe.” Darya answers steadily, she will not cry she tells herself over and over in her head, at least not here. “Well District 4, how about a round of applause for your beautiful tributes this year! My, but what a handsome pair! Gillian Dorsin and Darya Marlowe!” the Escort chirpily announces to the crowd. The crowd does clap, much to the Escort’s delight, but solemnly and no one smiles, Darya knows what this means. They clap because they know they’ve got a chance to win but not because they’re excited, and four never smiles because even though four is a Career District and are better off than a lot of the outer districts, they dislike the reaping more than most. Afterall District Four wasn’t solely given favors because they were loyal to the Capitol, they were given favor because the Capitol was scared of them. Four was one of the districts to rise up in rebellion, they weren’t the first but they were one of the last districts to surrender, they fought fiercely through to the end. “Shake hands you too!” the Escort orders. Darya reaches out her hand to Gillian and he takes it, gently squeezing, Darya looks up into his striking green eyes and he gives her an encouraging smile and Darya can’t help but to return it. ‘ _Well he doesn’t want to kill me yet_.” Darya thinks, before they’re pulled apart and rushed into the Justice Building. Once inside Darya is taken into a large dim room the heavy doors closing behind her, she takes a steadying breath and gracefully takes a seat on one of the chairs surrounding the table laying in the center of the room. She has been here before, two years ago, when she said goodbye to Fen, when she gifted him the pendant, this was the last place she ever hugged her brother, and the first she ever hugged Finnick. The door opens and in walks a fair-haired man she has never seen before, but trailing behind him is Brooke Seadee, her braided fishtails bouncing as her father pushes her toward Darya. “What do you say Brooke.” The man reminds her gently, his blue eyes looking at her kindly. “Thank you for saving my life Miss Marlowe.” Brooke says shyly. Darya feels a well of emotion in her chest, her mother’s students used to call her that, forcing back tears she smiles sweetly at the girl and brushes her fingers over her braids. “It is an honor to go in your stead Brooke, you’re a very special girl and you are going to do great things in your life, thank you for coming to visit me, that was very sweet of you.” Darya says kindly. Brooke launches herself at Darya and hugs her, Darya lets out a laugh and reciprocates the hug, before her father calls her away and she lets go and then he approaches her. “Thank you, I mean it, I will never be able to repay you and your mother’s kindness, never, so please whatever you need, I will do, It’s twice now you’ve saved my little girl.” The man says, his voice heavy with emotion, and then he gives her a quick hug and kisses the top of her head, and they leave. Darya barely has time to compose herself before Finnick and Mags come in. Finnick looks furious and more serious than she’s ever seen him and Mags has tears streaming down her face. She feels like crying, but knows she can’t because Annie, the kids, and her aunt and uncle haven’t come in yet, and she can’t let them see her crying, so instead she hurries to comfort Mags. “It’s okay Mags, I’m from a long line of fighters, you know that, I’ll be okay.” Darya assures Mags holding the old woman tightly, her voice only slightly gravelly, but a big reassuring smile on her face. She risks a glance at Finnick over Mags’s head and sees him still watching her, his eyes unflinching, his jaw clenched furiously, his nostrils flared and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. Mags doesn’t let her go for the whole allotted time provided, and they sit down together and hold hands, Mags telling her stories about her late grandmother. When a peacekeeper comes in to call time Finnick nods, with a final hug Mags exists, but Finnick, still practically glaring holes into her head, doesn’t move or say anything. When the peacekeeper tries to get him to leave, he refuses, so instead he grabs Finnick’s arm, ready to kick him out, he snaps. “Do you know who the hell I am! I am a _VICTOR_! As of today, I am her mentor and _she_ ,” Finnick yells now pointing at her, “is _my_ tribute, so bring whoever else in but I stay!” Finnick demands angrily, violently wrenching his arm from the peacekeeper’s hands and striding over to stand behind Darya, his hand clenching the back of her chair and his eyes challenging the peacekeeper to argue. Deciding it’s better not to bother, the peacekeeper opens the door and holds it open for the Cresta family, Annie’s the first one in, running to Darya and latching herself onto her, sobbing. “Darya no, not you, I-I’m so so-rry Dar, I’m so sorry, it should have been F-Fen not me, I-I’m so s-.” Annie sobbed into Darya’s shoulder inconsolable. Darya hugged her tightly before untangling Annie from her and grasping onto her arms firmly a serious expression on her face. “No, Annie, how could you say that, you have nothing to be sorry for, it was you, you were the one who was always coming home, we all knew that, even Fen, you.” Darya said doubtlessly. Annie sniffled but nodded and Darya released her, taking a breath before she planted a huge smile on her face, she turned and face her darling little cousins opening her arms to them. Marin, Ridley, and Pearl ran to her with choruses of Darya’s name spilling from their pure faces, she hugged them the tightest, she had basically raised them, especially Pearl, who was only six. She made sure to hug each one individually and assured them she would do everything in her power to come back. Darya was proud of herself; she hadn’t teared up once and her voice only cracked a couple a times. Her Aunt Meredith and Uncle Marius were next and they both enveloped her in a group hug, her uncle didn’t say much to her, but he kissed her head and patted her cheek before breaking the embrace and heading over to Finnick, whispering furiously to him, her Aunt Meredith kept holding her tightly. “Oh Dar, do what ever you have to, to come back to us, you deserve more Dar, not this, please come home to us. Know that you are loved hun, know that you are so loved and we’ll be waiting here for you, we’ll be waiting for you to come back.” Her Aunt Meredith said lovingly, holding her still in a maternal embrace. Darya almost broke down at this, her aunt had never been discourteous or anything and she had always been kind, but Darya had never known her aunt had cared for her that much and learning that now made her heart ache. Looking at the Cresta clan she knew this could be the last time she saw anyone with any connection to her mother and her memory. When they finally broke apart she and her aunt turned to see her uncle and Finnick whispering furiously toward each other, trying desperately to keep their voices down, she met Finnick’s eyes and she saw him blush, his anger momentarily forgotten, and then Pearl who had been standing closest to them turned to Darya gleefully. “Are you and Finnick getting married Dar!” Brooke announced to room. Her Uncle Marius and Finnick both ceased talking and turned to look at Brooke stunned, her Uncle Marius looked horrified and Finnick looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him up. Darya was speechless, she could see the boys looking at her and Finnick, and her Aunt Meredith looked at her expectantly, but Darya didn’t know what she was expecting her to say, so she looked at Annie for help, but Annie was in no state to speak her shoulders shaking, and Darya couldn’t figure out if she was still crying, or laughing at the whole situation. “W-what, I-I-I-,” Darya stuttered and could feel herself blushing, especially now that Finnick was looking at her curiously, but was saved from answering when the door opened and the peacekeepers called time. After a quick last group hug from the Crestas, they filed out and Darya was left alone once more, well alone with Finnick, she knew he was angry at her, but she didn’t say anything and she didn’t look back, after a while Finnick broke the silence. “Darya Marlowe you are the most exasperating person I have ever know.” Finnick sighed, his tone conveying a mixture of both affection and frustration. She didn’t answer. “Dar what the hell were you thinking?” Finnick asked, his voice now sad. “I-It was he-,” Darya started before Finnick cut her off. “Yeah it was her first time Darya, but it was your last, they didn’t call you, you were safe, you were finally safe.” Finnick reprimanded softly, the last part whispered almost to himself. “No, Finnick It was he-“Darya tried again but Finnick interrupted once more, his arms turning her to face him, his hands grasping her arms in place. “It was what Darya, it was her last chance, it was her only hope, her destiny, what about you Dar.” Finnick said his eyes boring into hers, his voice sounding desperate, angry and hurt, “Why Darya, just tell me why, why!” “IT WAS _HER_ , FINNICK!” Darya shouted now angrily, wrenching herself away and hugging her arms around herself. “Who is _her_ Darya, because up until today I had _never_ seen you talk to that girl, so please explain it to me, because I don’t get it Darya, I really don’t, so _please_ just tell me _why_?!” Finnick said running a hand over his face, the frustration more apparent in his voice. “She’s the little girl my m-mom saved,” Darya said quietly her voice more vulnerable than Finnick had ever heard before. Immediately she saw the ire leave him and his eyes soften at her, he approached her slowly as if he moved too fast she would bolt and he wrapped his arms around her, and she finally let the tears fall, sobbing into his shoulder. “Oh Dar.” Finnick sighed, holding her tighter as her body wracked with sobs louder, “ I-I’m sorry.” He held her until she stopped crying, and when she stopped he gently released her, leaning on the table behind him, arms crossed over his body, it was awhile before he spoke again. “You know we spend an awful amount of time hugging and crying in this room, we may as well just move in, the carpet’s nice at least.” Finnick said wryly, hoping his poor attempt of a joke would get the tension to ease. It seemed it worked because Darya snorted in response and gave him a bitter chuckle, before moving toward him and resting her forehead on his chest letting out a long sigh, his arms automatically wrapping around her again. “Finnick Odair you are so lucky people think you’re pretty because you’re personality is seriously lacking.” Darya said jokingly causing Finnick to bark out a laugh. “Please, everybody loves me, even you Darya.” Finnick answered arrogantly. “Unfortunately, I think that’s true.” Darya answered ruefully, laughing lightly, before lifting her head to look at Finnick, her gaze serious. “Finnick, you are loved, you do know that right, by Mags and Annie, and the kids adore you. I know we’re joking but if anything happens, If I d-,” Darya said, her soothing voice cut off briefly by Finnick increasing the pressure of his hands on her arms at the unspoken sentence, _‘If I die’_. “If anything happens,” Darya amended at Finnick’s pleading look, “please don’t shut yourself away from them, love them instead, like they love you.” “I’ll keep that in mind for when you’re old and frail and decide to do something ridiculous, like swim five miles out to sea in the middle of the night and get caught up in some poor fisherman’s net,” Finnick answered sardonically, “But there is no way in hell I’m accepting that right now, you’re coming back home, with me, I promise you Dar whatever happens you are coming home.” Sighing, Darya looks at Finnick exasperatedly, but nods just the same, she knows if she insists it’ll only make him upset, so she decides to drop it, at least for now. The back door opens up and in walks Ron Stafford, the same stoic look on his face as always. “The train’s waiting Odair.” Said Ron in a bored tone of voice, as if just speaking was too much effort for him to give. Finnick simply nods in response, maneuvering Darya in front of him, his hand placed on her lower back as he leads her toward the door. The three of them walk out, Ron leading the way to the train stationed behind the Justice Building, the peacekeepers on spotting them, form two lines on either side of them and escort them onto the platform, standing guard until they reach the door. Darya steps in.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as the door closes behind them Finnick and Ron brace themselves, both steadying Darya, with their hands at her arms, when the initial movement from the train catches her off guard.

"Thanks." Darya breathes out to them, Ron just shrugs at her nonchalantly and keeps walking, when she looks at Finnick, she sees him he rolls his eyes at Ron's back before he pushes her forward in the direction Ron had gone.

As they walked down a corridor, Darya could barely make out the scenery, it slipping by quickly in the various windows she passed, it made her dizzy so she decided on following the carpeted path that Ron was leading them on. It wasn't a long walk before Darya arrived at their destination, the room was extravagant with expensive furnishings and garishly bright ornate chandeliers. Most of the space in the room was taken up by a long large curved couch, an oblong oak coffee table, lavished with steaming drinks and pastries every color of the rainbow, sat in the center. As Darya walks in, she notices Gillian sitting on the edge of the couch looking uncomfortable and annoyed as the District 4 escort is prattling away, when he notices her enter he sits up relieved. He's not the only one that notices, the Escort pouncing on them as soon as they arrive.

"It's about time you three, what is it about you 4's and punctuality," the Escort reprimanded, her clawed hands resting on her hips, her ridiculously heeled foot tapping, "the tea is getting cold."

"Cool your tits Pumpernickel," Ron quips rudely, his tone the only indicator of any emotion on his stoic face. He plops himself on the couch haphazardly an uninterested look on his tanned face, "What we all need is a drink."

"Oh, you are incorrigible, and such language in front of a lady no less, how rude," Pumpernickel retorts pointing at Darya, who blushes at being pointed out, no one corrects her that Ron is watching his language, curse words are like water in District 4, especially for sailors, she's heard so much worse.

Ron lets out a sardonic laugh, his blue eyes glinting mercilessly, they remind Darya of a beast about to pounce on its prey, he looks dangerous, she can see why he won his games.

"Really, she's going to the games, I think the time for manners is long gone Simpleton," Ron answers harshly, "if anything she can stand to be a little more rude instead of standing there looking like a fucking fairytale princess."

Darya can't help it, she doesn't know if it's because despite her better judgement she feels bad for Pumpernickel, or if it's because she sees Finnick and Gillian both about to come to her defense, or if she's just annoyed with being called a princess, but she grabs the nearest pitcher and pours it over Ron's head.

For a second no one reacts, Gillian, Pumpernickel, and Ron all just stare at her gob smacked and then she sees Finnick struggling to hold back a laugh.

"What, the tea was getting cold." Darya quipped, causing Finnick to snort.

Pumpernickel lets out a hysterical giggle and Gillian starts roaring with laughter, making Darya smirk and Ron scowl.

"Ugh, whatever." Ron says annoyed, getting up from the couch and storming out of the compartment, his brown hair splayed on his forehead, he passes her on his way out and Darya swears she sees a hint of a smile.

"Well dear, how about some tea, come, you can sit next to me," Pumpernickel says beaming at Darya. She sits down and begins pouring some tea in a dainty blue cup, then pats the seat next to her, which Darya takes gracefully, she makes no mention of her unladylike scene.

Finnick takes the seat next to Darya and steals a cookie from her plate before pressing a button on the table, the whole wall opposite them lights up and Darya realizes it is a screen. She sees various videos pop up, before Finnick maneuvers one with a red tag that reads live.

"Let's take a look at your competition," Finnick tells them seriously, "it looks like they're about to reap District 1."

She sees Gillian move up further and sit on Pumpernickel's other side to take a better look, his striking green eyes staring intently on the screen. Darya looks too, she sees them call a lanky but fit blonde from the group of 18-year-old boys, his group cheering as he makes his way confidently to the stage, a wide grin sitting on his face. Next, they call a petite girl with short blonde hair, she's seventeen but could pass for younger, she doesn't strut to the stage like her partner but despite her dainty appearance her callous eyes make her look deadly.

For the first time it really sinks in that she's going to have to kill in order to survive, she chances a look at Gillian who looks at her, his face has paled and it seems he's come to the same realization too. They share grim smiles with each other before looking back at the screen, Finnick having changed it to a recap of another district.

They work their way through the districts with a couple standing out, the pair from 2 were both strong and vicious looking and they had the same light hair and hooked noses, Darya was pretty sure they had to be related, then there was the pair from 11 who both looked waifish, the boy was fifteen and the girl was sixteen. The boy from 7 looked like a lumberjack, tall, wide and sturdy, he was eighteen, his district partner was the youngest, she was only thirteen, but she looked sturdy too.

After reviewing all of the recaps, Pumpernickel, whose last name is Pimpleton, Darya finally learns, shoos them out and into their rooms for a nap before dinner. She wants them well rested and fed for when they arrive at the Capitol. That won't be for another thirteen and a half hours, but that in itself isn't very long, the outlying districts have to travel even longer, the reapings are always done in the east districts first. Four, one, and seven are usually the last to be picked, but one of the first to arrive, they always have their entrances be done in order.

Darya decides to take advantage of the time to sleep, she takes of her white reaping dress and gently folds it before placing it on the edge of the bed, she steps out of her shoes, sighing in relief at feeling her feet no longer constrained. She relieves herself in the bathroom and washes her hands with some sickly sweet-smelling soap, Darya doesn't care for it. She splashes some cool water on her face, already she feels too dry, she feels a bit anxious being so far away from the water and she doesn't like it, she wonders if that's how Finnick must feel when he's forced to make his trips to the Capitol, no wonder the first thing he does when he gets home is jump into the water.

Darya exits the bathroom and makes her way toward the bed before a knock interrupts her, heading toward the door before remembering her state of undress, she wrenches open the cherry wood wardrobe and pulls out the first robe she spots, quickly wrapping it around her before rushing to the door and opening it.

She catches Ron mid knock with an impatient scowl on his face before he notices her, she sees him open his mouth to make what she assumes is some sarcastic reply, instead she sees him take in her appearance and just stop and stare. Darya growing uncomfortable with the silence and confused as to his visit, and just a little bit annoyed with his lack of speech, decides to break the silence.

"Um, Ron, would you like to come in," Darya asks politely, "did you need to talk to me about something?"

At her voice, Ron shakes his head and seems to break whatever stupor he was in and instead answers her with a scoff, but pushes past her into the room and plops himself down on the bed, as if he didn't need her invitation to come in, Darya expects he probably didn't, none of them do really, her room has no lock. Darya shuts the door and turns to face him, walking toward him in her graceful manner and joining him on the bed, again he just stares, but this time searchingly as if he's scanning for a hint of something, but Darya isn't sure what. Darya raises her eyebrow, and as if seeming to read her question on her face Ron answers.

"You know I didn't get it at first, the way Mags and Odair, and from the reaction of the other Victors, them too, look at you like some kind of mystical sea nymph or something, " Ron said, "I mean I sort of got it with the whole sea goddess coloring thing you got going, but I didn't get why everyone was tripping over their feet for you."

Darya blushed but didn't say anything, she saw Ron notice, a barely there rueful smile appearing on his face as he visibly noticed her reaction, but didn't comment on it, he kept speaking instead.

"They all act like you walk on fucking water, except you do, walk like your on water, I mean," Ron said almost as if he was thinking out loud, "you're like a breath of fresh air for them, no wonder they're obsessed with you, you're sincere, but then again I guess you'd have to be for Mags to be so scared she couldn't bear to mentor you."

Darya started at his words, despite everything that happened she had noticed a lack of Mags, but she hadn't realized it was because of her that she was missing. She had thought it was just Ron's turn to mentor, Finnick always mentored because it was the only time Snow left him alone, but the rest took turns going to the Capitol, Mags still had this year and next year to go, she remembered. Darya could feel her throat tightening and her eyes started to glisten, both with guilt and with a small sliver of happiness, the only other time Mags had refused her duties was when her granddaughter had been picked a couple of years ago, Muscida had had to step in for her, the fact that Mags had to do it now meant that she loved her like family.

At the prelude of tears in her eyes Ron looked almost hilariously horrified, that she almost had to laugh at him, he gave her an awe-struck look and robotically handed her something, as if he could block her face with the item.

"Uh, here." Ron said stiffly.

Darya sniffed and took the small wrapped package from him, the paper was slightly crinkled, she guessed from sitting in his pocket for a while, she opened the package carefully and laying inside prettily was one of Darya's many beaded cords, what caught her attention, however, was the charm, it was a wooden shuttle. She looked up to meet Ron's serious eyes, a token, Mags had sent her a token, but not just any token, it was a cleverly concealed netting tool, one that, to an untrained eye would look like a curious charm, but in actuality was an instrument that could help save Darya's life. The tears fell helplessly from her eyes.

Darya knew what this meant, it meant that Mags had given her an advantage, but she also knew that it was dangerous, that if she were caught, if anyone were to notice or realize what it was, there would be dire consequences and not just for her or Mags, but for all of them. This would be construed as cheating, this would be treated as rebellious, she met Ron's searching eyes again and hardened hers, her gaze matching his in grimness and understanding, she didn't say anything but she deftly placed the necklace over her head, and under her robe, the shuttle resting between her chest, she saw Ron exhale relieved.

It dawned on her that despite his arrogant and snarky bravado, Ron was just as scared and helplessly worried as the rest of them, but most importantly just as angry, at the games and the way it all had to be dragged out, at the way the Capitol sugar coated everything, even the celebrated murder of children. Perhaps he was just much better at hiding it, she knew that being the mayor's son set him apart from the other Victors, but she could see that Ron was just as affected and just as filled with the haunted reminders of what he was forced to do and forced to live with. Regardless of it though, he was still willing to sacrifice his safety for her, and he didn't even know her, she was a stranger to him but he was willing to risk the Capitol's wrath to help her have a small possibility of winning.

Feeling sympathy but greater gratitude and appreciation for him Darya embraced him in silent thanks, she wrapped her arms around his neck and she felt him freeze before he hesitantly placed his hands on her back.

"Thank you." Darya whispered quietly into his ear.

At her thanks, she felt him tense again before wrapping his arms fully against her body and holding her painfully tightly. Darya understood that was his way of answering, and she found herself not for the first time wondering about a Victor, and when the last time they had been held had been. She made a note to herself to give them out more frequently, to all of them.

The lights flickered and the train gave a startling jolt and Darya felt herself fall back on the bed, Ron toppling over too, barely able to catch his hand on the bed so he wouldn't crush her. They laid there in the dark, both of them breathing hard, not knowing what had happened.

"D-did we, did we h-hit something?" Darya whispered shakily, her breath tickling Ron's face.

"I don't know, this, it's never happened before." Ron answered softly.

They heard a group of hurried footsteps in the hallway and then silence before hearing another pair, the lights stopped flickering and then Darya's bedroom door was wrenched open.

"Dar, Darya are you in her-," Finnick said before stopping short, his face turning quickly from concern to fury, "what the hell are you doing Stafford!"

Darya and Ron in their shock and confusion turn to look at each other and realize the impression their position gives, Darya blushes deeply and Ron quickly makes to get off of her. But not fast enough for Finnick, who strides over and practically lifts him off the bed, shoving him hard for good measure, his expression seething.

"Finnick!" Darya calls out standing up quickly.

At her voice, Ron quickly rights himself a scathing look settling on his face.

"It's not what you think you idiot, please she jumped me if anything," Ron says viciously his eyes glittering dangerously again before continuing, "you're a fool Odair, though I will admit I understand why, so at least you're not completely stupid, I mean she is hot."

Darya blushes and stares at Ron incredulously, but he simply sends her a sarcastic wink.

"Shut up Stafford, you don't know what the hell you're talking about, now get out." Finnick answered incensed, his fists balled at his sides.

Finnick barely had time to react before Ron placed a loud kiss on Darya's cheek before purposefully sauntering out, shoving Finnick on his way, a pleased smirk on his face before he cuttingly retorted.

"Lucky you, she gives out…nice hugs," Ron says reaching the door before turning back and addressing Darya directly before he exits, "see you around Princess."

Finnick turns back to face Darya, an almost fearful look on his face.

"Darya, what did he mean you jumped him, and hugs, since when do you give out hugs to strangers, and what the hell are you wearing." Finnick questions Darya insistently.

"I, what are you talking about Fin, nothing happened, he came in to talk that's it, he-he gave me a message from Mags and I just thanked him Finnick, that's all," Darya answered as calmly as she could, she didn't know why she felt like she had to explain herself to him, and that thought annoyed her but it also worried her, she had never seen Finnick like this, he wouldn't even look her in the eye.

"If that's it, then how come I found you two sprawled out on the bed Darya, forgive me but your attire speaks to the contrary" Finnick asked petulantly, pointing to her body and then to her reaping dress on the floor, his eyes never straying on her long.

He knew he was pushing it, he was being ridiculous, but he felt unexpectedly betrayed and angry and he didn't know what to do about it, all he did know was that he was left with the urge to punch Ron Stafford in the face and to keep him as far away from Darya as possible.

"The train made us fall, it's not like we were do-," Darya was saying before Finnick interrupted her.

"Oh for god's sake, Dar put some clothes on or cover up or something," Finnick said, looking intently at the floor.

Darya looked down at herself confused, was her bra showing, but she didn't notice anything wrong, she looked back to Finnick who was burning holes into the carpet.

"Finnick what are you talking about, I am covered up, I'm wearing a robe," Darya said, irritated on his seeming fixation with her clothes.

Finnick turned back to look at her incredulously, his sea colored eyes meeting her annoyed hazel, she saw him study her for a couple of seconds and then immediately relax and watched his face become relieved. Finnick grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the long mirror next to her nightstand, placing her in front of it before stepping to the side.

Darya looked at her reflection and stared horrified, the robe she had chosen was not only see through but it was cut in a way that made her look completely nude, no wonder Ron had looked at her so oddly when he had come in, and no wonder Finnick had assumed something else was going on. She heard herself make a squeaking sound and turned to look at Finnick helplessly only to find him shaking with laughter.

Embarrassed she crossed her arms over her chest, she was basically naked, and while she didn't usually have a problem being nude, most of District 4 didn't, skinny dipping was a right of passage, this felt different, it was more intimate somehow, this felt explicit and sexual. What if someone else came in and saw her like this with Finnick, what would they say, what would they think, if Finnick thought her and Ron innocently hugging was more than that, what would the Capitol think about her if it had gotten misconstrued. Darya was terrified at the thought, what would Snow do to her if some wanted to think of her as explicit and sexual, would he sell her like he does Finnick.

Darya knew she wasn't ugly, none of four was really, but she had never thought of herself as sexy or "hot" as Ron said, sure she had been told she was pretty or beautiful even, Finnick and Annie told her constantly, but was she really erotic in any sense that would inspire lascivious thoughts and desires from the grotesque people that existed in the Capitol. She hoped not, she was eighteen already, she was an adult, Snow would not give her two years of respite before selling her to the highest bidder like Finnick.

Sensing her unease, and watching the different emotions flickering on her face as she stared at her reflection, Finnick quickly surmised what thoughts were crossing through her mind. It was something that had been weighing on his mind too, he knew Darya was beautiful, he knew she was attractive, he wasn't blind to her looks and neither were the others. He saw the way the other men and even some of the women looked at her, Darya was gorgeous and she possessed a gracefulness that was appealing to all who saw her, watching her walk was like seeing a mesmerizing dance, she was naturally sensual and that's what worried Finnick the most. Her personality balanced her out perfectly, because it was difficult to have dirty thoughts when she was so pure and kind, not in a prudish way, she wasn't naïve or helpless, but Darya was so sincere and genuine that everyone had no choice but to respect her, even in their thoughts, as if anything lewd would sully her or cheapen her spirit in some way, because it felt predatory.

Darya didn't think like that with people, she didn't have an underlying reason for getting to know people or striking up friendships or conversations, she wasn't fake, she never pretended, Darya wasn't selfish, she was happy in seeing the people around her happy. But the Capitol wasn't like her and didn't think like her, they would only focus on her looks and her body and the gratification she could give them, like if she had nothing else to offer, as if she was wasn't worth anything.

Finnick swallowed roughly and shook those thoughts out of his head, for now, and instead strode over to the wardrobe and rummaged through the endless rows of clothes before pulling out a mint colored silk robe. Walking back to Darya, who was still standing in front of the mirror, he gently pulled her away and placed the robe in her hands before turning away to give her some privacy.

Darya disrobed and let the offending opaque clothing item fall to the floor, already she felt more like herself, she placed her arms in the green robe Finnick had given her, it was silky and cool, it reminded her of the water back home and all at once she wanted to cry and scream. How was she going to get through this, she hadn't even arrived, and already she was struggling, again she thought of the irony of her life and Annie, what had her dear cousin have to endure before and during the games, and with strangers no less, at least she had Finnick, at least she had someone to rely on, and for that she was grateful.

With no sound from Darya, Finnick grew weary and chanced a glance back at her, she was just standing there, her eyes blinking harshly and it worried Finnick. He approached her slowly so as not to startle her, his presence slowly bringing her back from her thoughts, he smelled like home, he was wearing that cologne she made him. Gently Finnick grabbed her still open robe and draped it over her body, tying the garment to her body securely, he could feel her eyes following his movements and decided to meet them, he felt his stomach somersault when he did. Her hazel eyes watching him reverently, full of affection for him, Finnick never felt better about himself more than when Darya looked at him like that, she always saw him, the real him, and she never looked disappointed, and that always gave him hope.

"Darya Marlowe, you are the most beautiful and kind person I know, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you," Finnick vowed softly, placing a coil of her black velvet hair behind her ear, his eyes staring meaningfully at her, "do you understand Dar, I won't let anyone touch you."

"Finnick," she breathed, "I haven't even won yet, let's not be presumptuous."

"You're going to win Darya, that I've never doubted for a second," Finnick said unquestionably, "but I want you to do more than survive Dar, and I will do anything and everything to make sure of it, I promise."

"Fine, but we're in this together Finnick, I want you to not just survive too, and if I can find anyway to help you, I will Fin, I won't let them touch you either, not anymore, they don't deserve you." Darya said forcefully.

Finnick hesitated, but meeting her determined fiery eyes, he nodded, it was different now, he could feel it, the games, the situation, them, they crossed a line into something that neither of them was sure what, but they crossed it and Finnick couldn't help but feel the changing tides and embrace them eagerly like he did the one's at home. For the first time in a long time, Finnick felt determined, for the first time he felt real hope.


	6. Chapter 6: Love is A Choice

After they had eaten a dinner, consisting mainly of fruit and some fish, most of them, with the exception of Pumpernickel, finding the foods too rich and heavy to venture to try anything else for fear of being sick, decided to head to the rounded couch room and watch some old games. Finnick thought it would be a good idea to get a feel for the different arenas to try to figure out what kind of arena they might build this year. Ron, surprisingly agreed, the both of them lead the group into the room, the two of them strategizing what kind of program they could configure to help Darya and Gillian train.  
“We should make sure we get them into an alliance,” Ron said thoughtfully, as the screen showcased a dry rubbled arena, a career group hunting down some of the other tributes, “they’re both strong, 1 and 2 will take them.”  
“Hmm, maybe but I don’t know if 1 and 2 will be safe this year, they’ve been making it a habit of taking down 4’s first,” Finnick mused, pointing to the screen where the careers turned on the 4 male tribute, to emphasize his point, “they’re starting to see us as a threat, maybe an alliance with another district.”  
“Ugh, you may have a point,” Ron answered begrudgingly, as the tribute from 1 stabbed through the female tribute from 4, “but who should we talk to, Haymitch maybe?”  
“Maybe, but the ones from twelve are usually always weak, I’ll talk to Johanna, the boy from seven looked sturdy,” Finnick answered.  
Darya and Gillian, let them speak, neither of them contributing much to the conversation, they knew it was necessary but neither of them were ready just yet to input anything to the conversation. The current game finished and Gillian popped up to put in another, holding up two for Darya to choose from, she chose one at random. When it started to play they noticed it was a quarter quell, the tributes were doubled that year, she noticed a Haymitch Abernathy and she turned to Gillian.  
“You think that’s who they were talking about?” Darya assumed.  
“Maybe, probably actually, twelve doesn’t get very many winners.” Gillian guessed.  
They both continued to watch the game, the arena was ideal, in the sense that they weren’t having to deal with extreme cold or heat, they both hoped deserts and snowy mountains weren’t in their future, otherwise they would be at a disadvantage. Thankfully for them, the recent arenas at the games had used those environments, it was more likely they would get a foresty arena, maybe even a beach if they were lucky. Watching Haymitch and his district partner work together and then separate, only to lead to her death and eventually his painful win was interesting, the force field especially caught their eyes.  
“Do you think there’ll be forcefields in our arena,” Gillian questioned, turning to face Darya from the black screen, “do you think we could learn to find them and maybe lure some of the others like that.”  
“No,” Darya answered surely, “they wouldn’t make a mistake like that again, the game makers always prefer the killings to be messy and up close, they don’t like us to seem smarter than they are.”  
“What, but you saw that District three guy right, he zapped those careers, how is that different.” Gillian argued.  
“Because he did that with what the game makers provided,” Ron said sternly as he entered the conversation, “not with what they had created.”  
“Besides, it’s a far reach learning that stuff in time for the arena, and Beetee improvised that because he had water available to him, you two might not be so lucky,” Finnick added, “we need to focus on making sure you’re prepared for whatever you’re not used to in the sense of survival, like which plants are edible or poisonous.”  
Gillian still seemed a little unconvinced but dropped the issue and instead popped in another video, this one showcasing a more recent game, it was the 68th games, it was Ron’s games. Darya peeked at Ron from the corner of her eyes, she saw him visibly freeze before he set his uninterested mask in place, she thought it was a little inconsiderate of Gillian to play that video specifically. She liked Gillian fine but couldn’t help but think he was a little thoughtless and just a bit immature, was he really so blind to people’s emotions or possible reactions that he just didn’t think or did he just not care.   
The last thought made Darya feel mean, was she really starting to distrust her own district partner already, was she really so callous that she was suspicious, just because he hadn’t taken Ron’s feeling into consideration, Ron who wasn’t exactly very friendly to begin with. She chided herself for her thoughts, of course he didn’t mean to, it made sense logically for them to watch all of the District 4 Victor’s games, to find a pattern and figure out what helped them win, Gillian wasn’t thoughtless, he was just determined to find anything to help alleviate the stress and worry, anything that could help stave off the panic and fear.  
Still she watched Ron from the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction, she watched him stoically watching the screen as he allied himself with the other tributes, killing when he had to but not actively being the one hunting. She saw him watch with dead eyes, when his alliance started deteriorating, she saw him imperceptibly flinch when his district partner was killed, and watched him look away, when he killed the girl from 12 and he won.  
Darya reached for his hand on the couch and wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing tightly, she saw him snap his head up and turn to look at her, but she kept her eyes on the screen, she felt him briefly squeeze her hand back and then let go.  
“It’s late, you two should go to bed, it won’t be long until we get to the Capitol,” Finnick stated, addressing Darya and Gillian, but shifting his glance from Darya to Ron assessing.  
Gillian who was just about to put on Finnick’s game, looked put out but did as he was told and stood up to leave, Ron walking out with him, before Finnick called to him.   
“Ron, can you meet me in my room, we need to talk.” Finnick said his gaze serious.  
Ron met Finnick’s stare impassively before briefly looking at Darya, Ron smirked as if amused but nodded just the same before exiting the room.  
Finnick turned back to face Darya, now it was just the two of them in the compartment.  
Darya could feel Finnick’s stare on her person and started to blush feeling like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t and was annoyed with herself for it. Awkwardly, Darya stood up and made her way to exit, before Finnick stopped her short his hand on her arm stilling her motion.  
“Darya, be careful, I know you’re just being you, but you don’t know how easy it is to fall in love with you,” Finnick said quietly, “no one can help it, Gillian’s been a goner since he saw you, but Ron is trying not to, please don’t give him a reason to, not unless you feel the same way too.”  
Darya looked at Finnick in surprise, love, she was just being kind, she knew what it was like to feel loss too, more than most, Finnick knew that, so why was he so convinced that she felt something for Ron.  
“Finnick, I am not in love with Ron, or anyone else for that matter, I just, he needs friends Fin, honestly I think if you two would talk more you’d get along, you’re a lot alike you know,” Darya explained patiently, “We can’t help how others will feel about us, but love is a choice Fin, and we decide who we give it to, that boy is just as love-starved as you were the day we first met.”  
“What, I-I-,” Finnick stuttered taken off guard by Darya’s blunt insightfulness.  
“That day in the Justice Building, I chose to love you that day, and I’m glad I did, you’re my best friend Fin, and I’m happier for it.” Darya admitted frankly.  
“Dar,” Finnick said her name softly, almost reverently, in awe of her wisdom, he forgot how insightful she could be sometimes, and even though he knew she meant she loved him as a friend, it didn’t stop his heart from lurching in his chest.  
“I know,” Darya said teasingly, “I’m amazing.”  
Receiving a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, Finnick watched her leave, her graceful form disappearing from view on her gliding feet, she didn’t look back.  
Finnick wasn’t sure how much love was a choice but he knew that in some sense it must be, because whatever or whoever he’d meet or face, he would always choose Darya over anything, which is exactly what he wanted to speak to Ron about.


	7. Chapter 7: The Capitol

Three brisk knocks woke Darya abruptly, her door swinging open revealed an orange wigged Pumpernickel practically vibrating with excitement, her chirpy voice sounding grating to her, as Pumpernickel flitted around the room.

“Oh, darling, you’re awake good, we have arrived,” Pumpernickel said excitedly, “just wait until you see the dress I picked out for you, everyone will just die, just die I tell you.”

Darya sat up and smiled wanly at her, she liked Pumpernickel fine, yes she was vapid and silly but Darya did believe she meant well, however misguided and ignorant she was to her situation, but hearing she had arrived at the Capitol made her anything but excited.

“Well don’t just sit there, lovely, up, up, up,” Pumpernickel said setting a big white box at Darya’s feet, “you have to get dressed and we are already running late.”

Darya sat up at that and stood up in her flowy manner toward Pumpernickel, who had now opened the tissue filled box and had splayed out a white beachy dress on the bed. “Late, but how is that possible, did we have to stop to refuel?” Darya asked curiously as she walked to a drawer to look for a clean towel and some underwear.

“Oh, no dear, it was the worst, apparently there was a faulty breaky something or other that had to be fixed, that’s why the lights went out,” Pumpernickel answered distractedly as she perused her wardrobe for some “adequate” shoes.

“Oh, it must have been an old part and it just gave out,” Darya said carefully not trying to look too openly interested, even though it was odd, nothing was ever faulty from the Capitol, “well I’m going to shower but I won’t take long Pumpernickel.”

“Hmm, oh, yes good idea you’re hair wet will look very fitting, very clever,” Pumpernickel said turning to smile widely at her, before she went back to look for whatever shoes she was so desperately looking for, “where are they, I know I ordered them, they just have to be in here.”

Darya bit her lip to keep from laughing at her and entered the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her before stripping and stepping into the intricate shower. There were so many buttons and options available that Darya gave up trying to figure out what was what and just pressed a pink button at random. As soon as she did a pink frothy goo fell onto her hair, it smelled soft and clean at least, rather than that sickly-sweet hand soap she had used before. She quickly scrubbed and rinsed her body clean, and just stood for a while letting the water run over her body, she sighed wistfully when Pumpernickel knocked impatiently on the door, she grabbed the bright white towel and dried herself swiftly, pulling on the lacy white set quickly, and opening the door.

Pumpernickel wasted no time in dragging her in front of the mirror and pulling her towel off her body and wrapping her hair in it, leaving her in nothing but the lacy white undergarments she had chosen, they had been the most comfortable looking of all the other pairs. Pumpernickel brought the white dress to Darya and slipped it over her head, the hem falling to her ankles, the dress was soft and pretty the fabric emanating an almost translucent shimmer as it moved. The dress looked reminiscent of a toga only clasping on one side and fitting loosely on her body, the parallel waves of the skirt flowing, the dress, only fitted at her waist, emphasized her hourglass figure beautifully. Pumpernickel placed some pearly iridescent short-heeled shoes in front of her and ripped the towel from her head, her dark wavy tresses falling sporadically around her, it was still wet, but it wasn’t dripping.

“Perfect, oh Darya you really are beautiful,” Pumpernickel clapped satisfied with her stylings, “we won’t have troubling finding sponsors for you, none at all.” Darya sees her reflection in the mirrors and can’t help but to grudgingly agree, she does look nice, and she does want to get sponsors, but she can’t help to think worriedly in exchange for what, still she offers Pumpernickel a smile and thanks hers.

“You did a great job Pumpernickel, thank you,” Darya praises her.

Pumpernickel beams at her, extremely pleased at her words, grabbing her hand and patting it affectionately, before remembering the time. Tugging on her hand, she leads Darya out of the room and into the dining compartment where she sees Gillian looking smart in a nice casual white suit, the color bringing out his olive complexion and his striking green eyes more. He is sitting at the table facing Finnick and Ron whose backs are to Darya and Pumpernickel, she can hear them talking about staying clear from fires at night, he’s about to argue when he spots Darya and his jaw drops. Ron and Finnick turn their heads in unison to see what distracted him and she sees them both widen their eyes, Darya can’t decide if she feels flattered or not but mostly she feels odd at being gaped at by the three of them, she fights desperately not to blush.

“Well don’t just stand there darling, sit, sit, we only have short amount of time before we must disembark,” Pumpernickel chirps, patting Darya’s shoulder and sitting primly down at the head of the table.

Darya nods and takes a seat next to Gillian, filling her plate with fruit, she finds she quite likes the taste of oranges best, though she does enjoy the strawberries too, she is humming in approval at the taste as she’s working on the orange flesh, sucking gently at its sweet juices, when she looks up to see them all just staring at her. She can see Gillian and Pumpernickel staring at her with almost glazed eyes, their mouths slightly gaped open, Ron is more subtle, his stoic face almost frozen in disinterest, but his eyes are locked onto her lips, almost mesmerized. Completely clueless as to why they’re all staring at her, she turns to Finnick, once she locks eyes with him, his gaze intense and dark, comprehension dawns, she suddenly feels the desire to do something again, her thought reminiscent of that moment they shared in the laundry room, she feels herself lick her lips at the memory and watches as his gaze moves sharply to her lips, his light eyes darkening more. She understands now all too well the looks she’s receiving and what they mean and despite the surprisingly overwhelming, almost primal, pleasure she feels at evoking a reaction from _him_ like that, she also feels uncomfortable with him not being the only one and being looked at _like that_ by _them_. Almost as if reading her thoughts and sensing her uneasiness, she sees Finnick’s intense gaze leave her, an almost guilty look on his face before she sees it replaced with anger and disgust, his culpable gaze now turned toward the others glaring.

“We are almost at the Capitol disembarking station,” Finnick says purposefully loud, “it may be a little disconcerting at first with all the bright colors and the camera flashes, but it will be quick and then we’ll be inside.”

Ron was the first to break from his stupor, the mention of the Capitol bringing him back again. “Don’t forget to wave and smile, this is their first glance at you, make sure you make an impression, it will be easier to get you sponsors that way.” Ron added after clearing his throat.

“We shouldn’t have problems with that, and with Dar in that get up, they’ll be lining up for the chance to sponsors us,” Gillian said confidently winking at Darya smiling boyishly.

Finnick started at Gillian’s shortening of her name, it was odd coming from his mouth and he didn’t like it one bit, and from Darya’s surprised face she wasn’t expecting it either. He hadn’t even realized he was standing up until he felt Ron’s hand grasping his arm firmly to keep him seated down. He turned to look at him about to shake him off but his serious eyes gave him an expressive pointed look and his usually stoic face looked both exasperated and worried at the same time, it was only when Finnick nodded tersely that he let him go. Finnick let out a frustrated sigh, and when he looked down at his hands they had been balled into fists and he hadn’t even remembered doing it, slowly he opened his hands and stretched out his fingers, deciding to splay them on the chair’s arms instead as Pumpernickels chirpy voice cut in.

“Oh, yes, that’s true, you look absolutely beautiful Darya dear and you’re so naturally sensual,” Pumpernickel added breathlessly pleased, “It takes real skill to learn that, oh, I just can’t wait, oh just wait until Effie sees you two, she’ll be so jealous!”

Ron rolled his eyes, scoffing at her, opening his mouth ready to insult her when this time Finnick gave him a pointed look, scowling Ron looked away annoyed, but he shut his mouth and didn’t say anything. They had made a deal, last they talked, about not doing anything that could affect Darya’s chances of surviving the games, good on their word, the both of them were doing their part, however grating it was on their nerves, unbeknownst to them Darya had been watching their interaction curiously. The rest of the meal went on without much of a hitch, Finnick and Ron spent all their time informing and advising Gillian and Darya on what basics were important to know before going into the arena, the two of them listening with rapt attention, on occasion even Pumpernickel chimed in. Every so often the train shifted and moved closer and closer to the disembarking station, they could hear the cheers not far now, the bellowing screeching sounds hard to tune out, the closer they got the less they spoke until finally it was their turn.

Finnick had been right to warn them, but even his cautions did not prepare them for the sea of bright loud colors that bombarded them when they came into view. Pumpernickel had already had Darya and Gillian standing, ready to have them wave and greet the Capitol citizens, Darya felt sick to see them so excited, knowing they could very well be dead soon, she also felt pity though, they were like children, completely ignorant to the hardships surrounding them, with no autonomy of their own, bribed with candy in exchange for obedience, she wondered what would happen if all of their ignorance was stripped away and they were forced to confront the reality of the consequences they were perpetuating. Despite this though she waved gracefully, a serene smile playing on her face, she focused her thoughts on their childlike wonder and pretended she was an indulgent parent, that is the only way she could get through this, if she just saw them all as misguided children in need of some attention and guidance. And that is what she emulated, as soon as she and Gillian stepped off, she smiled at them, almost cooing at their silly antics trying to get their attention. She could feel Finnick’s presence behind her, comforting and steady, she saw the way they all swooned and screamed his name, she figured it was something Gillian wanted to strive to achieve, because she saw him blowing kisses, winking and even stopping to kiss a couple of hands. Feeling the need to not fall behind, Darya scanned the audience, a warm and inviting smile still plastered on her face, when she finally found what she was looking for, a shockingly blue woman was holding a little blonde boy, she was struggling to push her way toward the front, the little boy being jostled in her arms, Darya stopped in her tracks, Finnick almost crashing into her she stopped so abruptly, the others in her party stopped too.

The audience was pleased though with getting to seem them longer, and she could hear them start to lower their volume in anticipation when she started walking closer to them, she could hear them start to whisper in excitement and curiosity, no one else had approached them like this. Darya walked into the crowd in her graceful manner, the people parting to allow her to move into their space, she reached the blue woman and the little boy, who both looked at her in awe, she smiled gently at them and just started speaking to them, asking if they were all right and if they had been enjoying their time. The crowd was now almost quiet, everyone straining to hear what the beautiful tribute from District 4 was saying, the crowd almost bursting with coos of excitement when she asked to hold the little boy and he nestled his head on her shoulder sleepily, the toddler clearly exhausted with everything going around them. She continued holding him, rocking him to sleep very easily as she continued to converse with the blue woman, who she found out was named Azurina, how fitting, it wasn’t until Finnick touched her shoulder gently, a charming smile on his face, and reminded her they needed to go that she returned the little boy carefully to his mother, making sure to sigh wistfully as if she’d rather spend all her day with the blue woman and her child than anything else. Leading her back, his hand on her waist, she could hear the crowd whispering excitedly.

“Did you see that!” a pink-haired man with orange lipstick said.

“Oh, she is so beautiful and so sweet!” a yellowed-hair woman beside him answered.

“Forget that, look, Finnick Odair, is _touching_ her!” a green skinned woman said behind them, kind of put out.

“Do you think their together, they’re both so good-looking!” the yellowed-hair women turned to say. “Oh my god, imagine their kids!” the green skinned woman returned, no longer disappointed.

“She’s so good with kids, I bet they would be adorable.” The orange-haired man said.

“I hope she’s good!” the yellow-haired woman said the rest of the surrounding people nodding their heads in agreement.

Darya felt Finnick’s hand tighten on her waist as he led her back toward their group, she knew he could hear them, they both could but pretended not to, she wondered if she should be worried, her intent was to make herself seem maternal, like family, to squash any thoughts of her as anything else, now she wasn’t sure. She chanced a quick glance at Finnick’s face from the corner of her eye, he had a dazzlingly smile on his face, his whole persona oozing charisma, but Darya found no sign of him looking worried or upset, he kept a hold of her until they were inside, his grip almost desperate on her as they stood close together on the elevator ride to their floor, only releasing her when the lift door closed behind them. Darya gave him an expectant look, now that they were safe from the cameras and the crowds surely, he would tell her whether she had messed up profusely or if she had done herself a favor. Finnick was staring at her, but he had a very calculating look on his face, which she took to mean she hadn’t messed everything up, but before he could even open his mouth to share his thoughts Pumpernickel bombarded her with compliments and insisted she and Gillian go to their respected glamour stations, for their makeovers.

He gave Darya’s questioning look an apologetic quirked smile, mouthing a quick ‘later’ to her before leaving her side and striding over to stand next to an annoyed Ron, she saw him whispering something to him that made Ron look thoughtful before smirking and nodding his head in agreement. She saw them both make their way to another elevator, the both of them whispering furiously to each other, briefly Darya was reminded of Finnick and her Uncle, Finnick still hadn’t told her what they had been talking about, but then again with everything going on she hadn’t asked either. Her thoughts were broken when Pumpernickel introduced their glam team, a woman with gold everything, including some of her teeth beamed at them, whilst behind her an older, tall, dark skinned man with intricate silvery tattoos offered them a kind bright smile, Darya was sure he must have placed small diamonds on his teeth for the way they sparkled in the lights.

“Aurelius, Tenebris, meet our new tributes Darya and Gillian, aren’t they just beautiful?” Pumpernickel said boastfully.

“Indeed, and such pretty skin the both of them, such a good foundation for us to start with.” Aurelius informed them, her gold eyelashes fluttering excitedly.

“We are lucky then, though I suppose we mostly always do luck out with 4, they do have the better-looking people.” Tenebris added thoughtfully, the deep timbre of his voice reminding Darya of the deep ocean, “the process won’t be long at least since they are both somewhat groomed already.”

“You come with _me_ dear,” Aurelius told Darya grasping her hands between her own, “we’re going to have such fun.”

Aurelius dragged Darya to a room where two other women, both with similar styles of fashion as Aurelius, except one looked as if she’s been dipped in silver and the other in bronze, were fiddling with strange contraptions.

“Darling meet my sisters Argentia and Aesia,” Aurelius said, pointing to the silver and bronze women respectively, who beamed at her as soon as they saw her, “isn’t she just lovely girls.”

“Oh look, her legs and arms are almost completely hairless,” Aesia said gleefully, her high-pitched and lilting voice sounding like a squirrel, “oh, I just love fours.”

“And her hair, if we add some conditioning serum and shape her waves more,” Argentia added, her voice hissing her s’s in that very Capitolian way, “at this rate we’ll be home by lunch.”

“Oooo, that new place with the new fusion dishes are to die for,” Aurelius said, while she and her sisters started to undress Darya, “ did you hear about that new designer boutique that just opened up.”

Darya tuned them out, their gossip not interesting to her in the least, she was just their little doll, they rarely ever talked to her anyway, except to compliment her on her hair or lack of hair on her body, most of four shaved regularly because it helped to swim faster. Darya thanked her district for it, because she only had to endure one waxing session, her body tingling and sore from the offending strips that had been placed and ripped off her body. She also only had to be hosed down once, even though she had showered before she got off the train, after they rubbed some cooling lotion on her entire body, it had burned almost unbearably at first before it settled, they placed both her hands and her feet into bowls of bright blue liquid before they started working on shaping her nails into long ovals. After she was dried and painted, they moved on to her hair, all three of them working on a section at once, she recognized the smell of the pink goo she had used on the train, the soft and clean smell comforting to her now.

“What is that, it smells lovely?” Darya inquired softly.

The three women cooed and squealed at her question, apparently, they thought her endearing for asking, and not for the first time Darya thought they probably likened her to a doll, a toy that they were simply dressing up for fun, and not to send her to her imminent death. Ignoring her dreary thoughts Darya focused on Aurelius who answered.

“Peach and orange blossoms,” she said, her golden eyelashes fluttering as she spoke, “isn’t it just divine, I mean it is a bit subtle, I prefer vanilla and roses myself, but it’s still pretty, and it makes your hair so soft.”

“Hmm, yes, it is subtle, I quite like it,” Darya said, not being able to help the little dig, not that they noticed anyway, “do you think I could have a bottle?”

At her request all three of them started cooing again, Argentia handing her a little pink bottle of the stuff, the three of them continuing their conversation as if she wasn’t there, talking about how fortunate they were that they had such handsome victors to work with and how lucky that they cared about their grooming. When they were done poking and prodding her, the metallic trio said their goodbyes and left her in the room alone in nothing but a robe. Darya sat there waiting for about half an hour before the door opened once more, she didn’t know why but she was surprised to see Tenebris’s tall form step into the room, she had thought he was just another lackey, she hadn’t realized he was the designer.

“Darya, good, you’re ready to be measured, please step closer.” Tenebri’s said after offering her a dazzling smile.

He pressed a button on the wall and a small round platform emerged in the middle of the room, as she made her way to it, the door opened once more and in walked another man, his hazel eyes meeting hers, as she stepped onto the platform.

“Ahh, Cinna, good, you’re here, if you could take her measurements, please,” Tenebris said without turning around, it was clear he was expecting him, “Darya this is Cinna, he’s in training to be a stylist, like me.”

“Hello,” Darya greeted shyly as Cinna reached her.

“Hi,” Cinna said kindly, as he raised her arms from her sides and took what looked like a silver chain and wrapped it around her waist, “it’s lovely to meet you Darya.”

Darya smiled in answer as their similar colored eyes met again, she noticed that except for some enhancing gold shadow, he was not adorned or accessorized in any exaggerated way like most of his counterparts, his voice too was different, his accent not as prominent as the others. Other than his greeting at first, he remained silent and worked quietly, only answering some questions here or there when Tenebris’s deep voice asked, when he was finished, Tenebris nodded at him in approval. Tenebris helped Darya down from the pedestal and motioned for Cinna to press another button near the door, when he did a small sitting room area revealed itself. Cinna made to leave before Tenebris voice stopped him.

“You may stay and join us Cinna, this part is just as important, if not more.” Tenebris’s voice commanded.

Darya could see the surprise flash on his face briefly before he started following them into the room. The room had two blue couches facing each other, with a circular coffee table sat in the middle, one wall of the room was nothing but a huge window looking out into the city, the others were white and bare. Tenebris and Cinna sat on one couch and Darya sat on the other facing them. Tenebris pressed a button and the table split and pushed the smell of food into the air, a roasted bird of some sort appeared, lathered in creamy sauces and accompanied by some buttered green vegetables and some mash potatoes.

“Please, help yourselves, the both of you,” Tenebris said, his palm open to them as he motioned to the feast displayed before them, “you must be tired after working so hard today, _I know I am_.”

Darya studied Tenebris’s face more closely, she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about just today and by the look of curiosity on Cinna’s face, she harbored to guess she was right. Darya was a bit peckish but she wasn’t necessarily very hungry, but if like Tenebris said, and she assumed he had been referencing Cinna’s hard work, as she had done nothing but sit and stand when she was told, and they were tired she should fix a plate just to be polite. So she did just that, she served a moderate serving on the plate making sure it all fit neatly, when she filled it to her satisfaction she handed it to Cinna, who looked at her surprised and only took the plate after glancing at Tenebris, who watching them closely nodded at Cinna in permission. Cinna took the plate gently from Darya, offering her a kind smile in thanks, which she returned. Darya fixed another plate with larger portions for Tenebris, who gifted her one of his glittering diamond smiles and took the plate chuckling.

They were quiet as they ate, when they finished Tenebris was the first to fill the silence.

“Darya, I must say you are quite perceptive, being observant is a very good skill to have,” Tenebris said, “you never know just how valuable information can be to have.” Darya knew he was addressing her, but as Tenebris spoke he looked only at Cinna, who returned his calculating gaze.

“I assume so, especially if it’s information nobody else has, or better yet that only one or two are privy to.” Darya answered astutely.

Both Cinna and Tenabris whipped their heads to look at her when she answered, she hadn’t meant to speak out loud, it was after all a bit of a rhetorical question if anything, but she had. She was worried she had done something wrong and was regretting saying anything at all when Tenebris let out a booming laugh, a pleased expression on his face. Cinna was more composed in his reaction offering her one of his small smiles, but looking impressed with her nonetheless. Darya found the whole situation to be quite confusing and was again unsure as to how to navigate the situation, wishing nothing more than to be able to leave soon and hopefully sleep. As if he could sense her thoughts Tenebris stood, Cinna rising with him picking up a tablet.

“As you are most likely aware of by now Darya I am your stylist, Aurelius will be you’re partner’s,” Tenebris explained to Darya, “however since you’re from four and therefore one of the first districts to arrive, the opening ceremony won’t be until tomorrow, when the final districts arrive.” Darya nodded in understanding before Tenebris continued, “This means we have an extra day to make alterations, we have designed some outfits in advanced, and with the measurements we took of you today we’ll be able to alter them accordingly, you will be allowed to either pick which one you like best or let us choose and be allowed an alteration.”

“Do the other Districts get to do this, the outlier ones, do they get to choose what they would like to wear?” Darya asked.

“No,” Cinna said, “they do not,”

“Then I won’t either,” Darya said, “I’ll let you choose and decide on an alteration after my fitting.”

She saw both Tenebris and Cinna smile simultaneously at her answer.

“Very well then, Darya you are excused and may return to your team,” Tenebris dismissed her in his soothing deep voice, “Cinna if you could show her the way, Pumpernickel should be waiting for her in the waiting room.”

Cinna pressed a button and the door slid open, exiting he led Darya back through the area she had passed through before, eventually they came upon the elevator that Finnick and Ron had taken hours ago.

“This is where I leave you Darya, the waiting room is on the fourth floor,” Cinna explained, “just press the button and it should take you right up.”

Darya stepped into the open elevator and did as she was told, turning to face Cinna who was still standing outside.

“Thank you, Cinna.” Darya managed to say before the doors closed and the lift ascended dinging when it had reached the fourth floor.

The doors opened and Darya stepped out.


	8. Waiting Rooms

  
The waiting room was large and opulent, like most things in the Capitol, however the people in the room were anything but cohesive in the room’s style. She saw an array of people and personalities milling about the room, some with the staple colorful clothes and hair, but the others were more muted and less obnoxious looking, they were Victors, she realized, they were waiting for their tributes too.  
Darya looked around for Finnick, Ron, or Pumpernickel, she was much easier to find, her bright wig easier to spot amongst the more subtle colors surrounding her. She was sitting with another purple-haired escort, who on closer inspection Darya realized was a man with very effeminate features and not a woman as she had first thought. Sitting next to them was a well-muscled man with, albeit a bored look, a kind face, but next to him sat a woman Darya’s age, one who she recognized immediately, the winner of last year’s games, Johanna Mason. She looked miserable, and as if she hadn’t slept well in days, a scowl permanently placed on her face and her arms crossed firmly over her body, as if willing her arms to not latch on to the nearest Capitolian and strangle them to death. Darya felt a fleeting sick pleasure at the thought and felt disgusted with herself, but a quick flash of Fen’s smiling face and Annie’s carefree laugh, not to mention what they did to Finnick, and her guilt was greatly assuaged.  
As she stepped closer, she realized that Finnick and Ron were seated diagonally across from Johanna and the kind-faced man but had previously been out of view because of an escorts ridiculously large hat.

“Darya, darling, done already, well I’m not surprised one bit, you were practically perfect already!” Pumpernickel declared loudly.

Pumpernickel was the first to notice her, jumping up from her seat and announcing her presence to the whole room, Darya never felt so mortified and tried desperately not blush. Darya was known for her patience but Pumpernickel was definitely testing hers and despite herself she wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up and maybe throw her shoe at her head or something, but she didn’t. Instead she gave her what she hoped was a convincing smile, but one that she knew was probably at best strained, before reaching the group.

“Hello.” Darya said quietly.  
“Oh, she is too precious, and such nice skin,” The purple-haired man said, his smile artificial looking, and his tone almost passive aggressive as he perused Darya like if he were window shopping, “ you were right Pumpernickel, she is very appealing to look at, a worthy contender, but can she fight, you know my two tributes are just vicious with an axe.”  
“She’s, from a career district, Bartholomew,” Pumpernickel scoffed, her tone condescending, “of course she can fight, and just wait until you see Gillian.”

Darya was uncomfortable with the whole situation, most of the room’s attention was on her, thanks to Pumpernickel’s loud introduction, and the back and forth sniping of her Escort and she assumed District 7’s, was not quenching the mutterings and interested looks sent her way. Luckily, it seemed, she wasn’t the only one who looked uncomfortable, Ron looked more than annoyed and just slightly wary and Finnick looked almost murderously infuriated at Pumpernickel. She chanced a look at the kind man and Johanna, the former looked exasperated and weary but the latter looked almost gleeful at the spectacle, if her snickering were any indication.  
Darya figured if it were happening to anybody else she might laugh too, at the absurdity and redundancy of it, but as it was pertaining to her and her insipid Escort had basically announced she should be a target to a room full of career districts, she wasn’t in a very laughing mood. Exhausted and with very little patience left, Darya sighed and decided she should sit down, as it seemed that her Escort would not be making proper introductions. Making her way to Ron and Finnick and ignoring the stares being sent her way, Darya was determined to keep her sanity for as long as possible, her patience, however, was thinning precariously.

“Move,” Darya commanded shortly, Finnick and Ron both scooting and making room for her, “how much trouble do you think I’ll be in, if I throw my shoe at her head.”

She heard Johanna cackle in front of her and Finnick and Ron snort.

“I think at this point, you can get away with anything Princess,” Ron said, “in fact you’d probably be proving your “fighting” prowess, and they’d just go at it again.”  
“We could always blame it on Johanna,” the kind-eyed man joined in, “she does have a history of throwing things at people’s heads.”  
“Hey, they deserved it,” Johanna scoffed, a small smile still on her face, “and you can’t say it wasn’t funny, the smacking sound alone was enough to get me through the stupid tour.”  
“Regardless of the hilarity, I think for now it’s best to keep your shoes on Dar,” Finnick said amused, “this is Blight and Johanna by the way, they’re from District 7, mentors.”  
“Well, you’re gorgeous, sponsors will be a breeze for you.” Johanna said by way of greeting.  
“It’s nice to meet you Darya,” Blight added kindly, shaking his head at his partner’s antics, “don’t mind Johanna, she has no filter between her mouth and her head.”  
“Isn’t that the truth,” Ron muttered next to her under his breath to which she scolded him for it by way of her elbow on his arm.  
“Be nice.” Darya said quietly from the corner of her mouth.  
“Yeah, be nice Stafford.” Johanna said sarcastically, her eyes narrowing at Ron, she had clearly heard them.  
Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else, sitting back on the couch he looked away and scowled.

Clearing her throat, Darya decided to engage them back into pleasant conversation, she had never been to District 7, but she knew, like most, that they were in charge of lumber. District 7 and District 4 were close to each other, each side always barely making each other out in the distance, especially when they were in the water. Darya, like most others, had always been tempted to swim out and get a closer look, just to see the tree forests, but she had never done it, in fear of the repercussions. It was not allowed to visit other districts.

“Is it true that the trees are so big in 7 that they block off the light?” Darya asked curiously.  
Blight and Johanna looked at Darya, both of them seeming to relax their shoulders just a little at the question, Johanna even offered up a softer smile before Blight answered.  
“Yes, the canopy, that is, the leaves on top are so many that there is barely any light that comes through at times, it means the area has been untouched and the trees have grown freely.” Blight said smiling.  
“It smells amazing.” Johanna added quietly, almost reminiscing, “like home.”  
“What does it smell like?” Darya questioned.  
“Like Pine, mostly, but also earthy, warm and crisp,” Blight described, “the Pine trees, the leaves are needle like and a very vibrant green, and they smell fresh and cool, kind of like mint.”  
“It sounds beautiful,” Darya said sincerely  
“It is,” Finnick said looking at her, “you would love it Dar, and I bet you’d be able to bottle it in one go.”

Darya smiled at him, he knew her so well, that was her first thought as soon as Johanna had mentioned the smell, and after Blight’s description, Darya had her heart set on experiencing and replicating the smell.

“Bottle it?” Johanna asked confused.  
“Perfume,” Finnick answered, “Dar likes to make cologne and perfume, there hasn’t been a scent she hasn’t been able to replicate, she’s really good at it.”  
“You’re exaggerating Fin, it’s just a pastime I enjoy,” Darya said humbly, “I’m not an expert or anything, I just do it for fun.”  
“I’m not exaggerating Dar, it’s true.” Finnick said matter-of-factly, causing Darya to smile and roll her eyes affectionately.  
“Somehow I get the feeling he’s right,” Blight added, “when it comes to you Darya, I don’t think Finnick was exaggerating.”

Darya didn’t know what to say to that, she supposed she ought to feel flattered maybe, but she had a feeling Blight wasn’t referring to her scent making skills, before she could ask him to elaborate, Johanna cut in.

“All right, we’ll meet again soon, it looks like our team is done for the day,” Johanna said, “see ya, Finnick, Darya, Stafford.”  
“Goodbye,” Blight said, “It was nice to meet you Darya.”  
“Bye.” Darya said quietly.

It wasn’t long after, that Gillian rejoined the party and they were finally able to leave the waiting room and head to their rooms.  
Darya was excited to have the time to sleep and rest for longer than a couple of hours, she was already exhausted and wished for nothing more than to lay her head on a pillow and be dead to the world. Unfortunately, as soon as they stepped into the space, she saw two mannequins decked out in beautiful and sparkling matching outfits sitting in the center of the living room.  
“Ahh, lovely, Tenebris and Auerlius have outdone themselves,” Pumpernickel exclaimed cheerfully, “we can do the fittings now and have some extra time for ourselves tomorrow!”

Clapping her hands twice, Pumpernickel summoned two young people dressed in white tunics, Avoxes, and Pumpernickel ordered them to bring partitions, to give Gillian and Darya some semblance of privacy. When that was done Pumpernickel forced both Darya and Gillian to try on their outfits.  
If Darya had been described as a mermaid before, she definitely looked the part now. The dress was very form fitting, almost like a second skin, the material felt very thin and light and when the light hit it the whole garment sparkled like the sunlight hitting the sea. The bottom of the dress, the only part that flared out, was just slightly too long and would definitely have to be taken in a bit more, but other than that it fit Darya like a glove.  
Though Darya was not one to wear very tight-fitting dresses, she thought herself lucky that Tenebris at least had the thought to make the otherwise heavy looking outfit lightweight and comfortable to wear. She was also glad; she wasn’t made to step out and show the rest of the team the dress. Pumpernickel took note of all the slight adjustments on their outfits and then helped Darya get undressed.

“Any specific alterations you would like, dear,” Pumpernickel asked, “we could make it shorter, let you show off a little leg.”  
“No!” Darya answered firmly before remembering herself, “that is, it won’t be necessary, it’s lovely just the way it is, but thank you Pumpernickel, maybe for the interviews.”

Pumpernickel smiled, pleased at her suggestion and with a pat to her head left her to get dressed.  
When Darya finally stepped out, she saw that Ron and Finnick had gone, Gillian was sitting on the couch and Pumpernickel was flittering about the room trying to organize dinner or something.  
Sighing, she sat on the couch too and offered a small smile to Gillian in greeting, who returned it tiredly. It seemed the day was taking its toll on him too, she expected it had been hard on everyone, but only Gillian and her had their days counted, she figured he didn’t want to spend the last of them trying on clothes either.

“Want to watch some games, then?” Gillian asked half-heartedly.  
“Sure.” Darya answered.

Gillian stood up and grabbed a remote, fiddling with it for a while, he finally got a game going, this one being one she hadn’t seen before, it was an older one. It took Darya a minute to realize why Gillian had chosen it, until she saw a young curly haired girl carving out a hook, it was Mags, it was Mag’s games. At the reminder of the older woman, Darya touched her hand to her chest, where she could feel the shuttle touching her skin. She had forgotten, briefly, but a lapse in memory nonetheless, that Mags had given her an advantage, one that made her more likely to win, to come home. And she would, watching a young Mags on screen fighting for her life asserted that for Darya, she would fight too, as ruthlessly as she could to go home too.  
Still she couldn’t help but be nervous about tomorrow, tomorrow would make everything just that more real. She would be able to see all the other tributes, all of them together for the first time, all the other people that had to die if she were to survive, all the other people that she would have to kill.


	9. Thinking Ahead

Darya was nervous, and she was absolutely exhausted, today would be the day that the games officially would start. The whole morning had been a frenzy, Darya who hadn’t even stepped into her assigned room yet, had spent the whole night on the couch, watching and rewatching Mag’s games in a haze, until she had heard cheering. It was only then that she had realized that the sun had come up, making her way to the large windows she peeked out and saw the colorful wigged crowd below, cheering as the remaining districts had arrived. She stood there watching, unmoving, until a hand landed on her waist and a chin placed itself on her shoulder.

“How long have you been up for,” Finnick asked quietly, watching the scene below them, over her shoulder. “Awhile,” Darya responded, still watching the crowd. “Did you even sleep Dar,” Finnick asked in his familiar fond tone, the one that told Darya he already knew the answer to his question.

“No,” Darya said softly, finally turning to look at him, “it’s too noisy.”

“Hmmm,” Finnick hummed in agreement, smiling at her, his ocean eyes meeting her hazel.

They both simultaneously realized how close their faces were, their soft smiles slowly waning and replaced by fascinated eyes, the both of them greedily exploring each other’ faces like if they had never seen each other before. And when his eyes landed on her lips, Darya felt that pull again, the one she had felt all those days ago in the laundry room and she felt herself leaning in, she could feel his hand tightening on her waist as he leaned his head closer, touching his forehead to hers, his sharp exhale intermingling with her short catching breaths.

“Dar,” Finnick whispered, his breath caressing her lips, his tone almost pleading.

There was something so enticing and distracting about Finnick saying her name like that, that the only way she could think to answer instinctively was by touching her nose to his. They were so close now and Darya felt herself growing faint with anticipation when suddenly Pumpernickel’s high pitch squabble broke through their silent haze causing the both of them to step away from each other reluctantly before she stepped into the room.

“Good morning you two,” Pumpernickel greeted obliviously, “today is the day, oooh, isn’t it exciting, I just know you’ll do well Darya darling!”

Darya and Finnick offered her strained smiles in turn but didn’t say anything and they wouldn’t have had time to answer anyway because it wasn’t long before Ron and Gillian appeared too.

“Well, let’s get a move on darlings,” Pumpernickel chirped motioning for Darya and Gillian to follow her to the elevator, “we have to look our best and be ready to go in only a couple of hours.”

Sighing, Darya made her way to the open lift in her graceful manner, she could feel Finnick’s stare on her person and was tempted to look back but she forced herself to keep walking. If she was honest with herself she would admit that the only reason she never looked back was because she knew that if she did she could never walk away and that wasn’t something she could afford to do, at least not now, especially when she very well could walk away from Finnick forever. No, it was easier this way, it was better to focus on getting through all of the things she had to do now and then maybe just maybe she’d have a better chance of having a later.

Darya was so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed that that the doors had opened again and that almost everyone else had stepped out until she felt Ron subtly nudge her hand with his, breaking her from her stupor.

“You look dead on your feet Princess,” Ron muttered to her quietly.

“I know.” Darya sighed.

“Well cut it out, or all of them will be able to see.” Ron whispered firmly.

Ron quickly stepped out but not before squeezing her fingers fleetingly. Darya took only a second to school her face into a more passive one and followed after him to catch up with the rest of the group.

As soon as Pumpernickel spotted her she was pulled forward to stand next to Gillian who was being briefed by Tenebris and Aurelius about their styling. Because their outfits coincided with each other the debate was whether they should each have a separate piece to differentiate themselves or if they should stick with the cohesion. Darya found herself not listening, choosing instead to focus her attention on some of the other people coming in. She spotted Blight and Johanna coming through with their two tributes, the both of them sturdy and muscular, the male tribute especially, Darya figured that just like 4 their district taught the trade to the children early. She caught Blight’s eye who offered her a kind smile when he caught her looking over, she responded in kind and decided to turn back and focus on the conversation at hand when she heard someone call her.

“Darya, darling, what do you think?” Pumpernickel asked. Cursing herself silently, she quickly deliberated what to answer as Pumpernickel, Aurelius and Tenebris looked at her expectantly.

“I think what Tenebris said makes the most sense, given the circumstances.” Darya answered carefully.

Darya figured she had answered well enough when Tenebris directed his blinding smile at her and Aurelius and Pumpernickel gave her conceding ones, who knows what revealing or shortened outfit she had been saved from wearing. The whole process had been such a whirlwind and Darya was so overwhelmed with the whole situation and the desperate need to scream or cry that she hardly said a word. She stayed as quiet and as still as she possibly could and even though she should have felt nervous or anything really, she found herself going completely blank and imagined she probably looked as stoic as Ron. She felt nothing and thought of nothing, occasionally she heard some words here or there, Aurelius had said something about her eyes, Tenebris had asked her to twirl and occasionally she felt someone press her fingers, but she remained unfazed throughout the whole process. It wasn’t until she felt someone gripping at her arm unnecessarily firmly that she once again became aware of her surroundings and realized she was being led to a horse drawn carriage.

“Good, you’re back,” Ron said quietly, “you had Odair worried, I practically had to glue his ass to a chair to keep him from trying to hold your hand.”

“What, why?” Darya asked confused.

“Because you disappeared in your head, can’t really blame him, you have some creepy blank eyes princess,” Ron explained, his grip loosening slightly, “anyways I had to sit him out, I don’t know who he’s fooling, but he won’t be doing you any favors if everyone sees he can’t keep his hands to himself.”

“What, we’re just friends,” Darya said unsurely, “surely a comforting gesture couldn’t be so misconstrued.” But even as she said it she knew it wasn’t true and one glance at Ron’s stoic face showed her that he knew it too.

“Princess, you’ve got that idiot wrapped around your pretty little siren finger,” Ron scoffed, “and you know you do and he knows it too, and that’s the damn problem.”

“Nothing has happened,” Darya said defensively, “and nothing can happen.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ron huffed out, his voice lowering as they passed some other tributes, “and we all know that, he knows that, but he-.”

“He’s worried.” Darya sighed.

“No, well yeah, but he just,” Ron sighed, “he’s just thinking ahead.”

“I keep telling him not to,” Darya said quietly, “there _are_ twenty-four of us.”

Ron didn’t say anything, but she felt his analytical eyes, his gaze only breaking contact when they got to the carriage and he helped her up. He didn’t look at her again but he looked pensive and was only broken from his reverie when Gillian greeted them followed by Pumpernickel.

Darya braced herself, her hands holding on firmly to the carriage, she refused to fall at the very least and it helped to control her raging nerves a bit. She saw Gillian shuffling his feet and drumming his fingers, at any rate she wasn’t the only one, she offered her hand to him and he took it gladly, his hand clammy in hers, they looked at each other and shared grim smiles as they waited. After what felt like forever the carriages in front them finally started to move, theirs would be next, and just as they started to, she felt a hand over her own, it was Ron’s.

“He’s not wrong,” Ron said quickly, “to think ahead, just keep your head up Princess.”

Darya didn’t know what to say as she and Gillian were pulled away, but she did as she was told and kept her head up, she could feel Gillian tighten his hold on her hand, which was for the best because as soon as the light hit them she felt her legs slightly buckle at the sound of the roaring crowd and their thunderous applause. She felt Gillian slip his arm around her waist holding some of her weight, this centered her and she smiled out at the crowd who were excited to see her again because she could hear them shouting her name. She caught sight of herself on one of the screens and gasped, she had seen her dress before and Gillian’s suit, but in the sunlight, and next to each other they looked like the glittering kaleidoscope colors that rippled and beckoned on the surface when you were underwater. She saw the audience being positively affected by the effect and heard them cheering in approval, Darya made sure to keep smiling and waving until they finally came to a stop in front of President Snow.

Darya saw him perusing the tributes as if to determine who he thought could win as he gave his annual opening speech and as he finished with the ever-repeated phrase of their favoring odds she felt his cool beady gaze land on her. She felt her stomach flip and the back of her neck tingle with as he offered her an empty grin, and as her carriage started to move Darya made sure to answer in kind, except she made sure hers reached her eyes making sure she evoked everything through them, especially her anger, so that he could read them. And she figured he did because she saw his lips turn down and settle into the beginning of a scowl, the end of which she didn’t see because she turned her back to him and didn’t turn around.

She knew it was prideful and as the carriage pulled her inside and she was once more in the dark she felt the repercussions of what she had just done. It wasn't just foolish, it was downright suicidal. She felt the bile run up her throat, the acerbic taste of acid coating her tongue as she swallowed back her nausea. She felt cold and the fingers on her hands felt numb as she robotically got off the carriage and ignored the chirpy lilt of Pumpernickel's voice and the chorusing voices of Tenebris and Aurelius's congratulations. She was afraid to breath and unleash a mirage of pent up feelings and suppressed rage. She wanted nothing more than to go home, she wanted to swim in the sea, she wanted Mags and Annie, she wanted everything to just be normal. But she knew that it couldn't, and she knew that it wasn't, and that it would never be, at least not with the ways things were now. Ron had told her that Finnick was thinking ahead, to the way that things could be, between them, if and only if she survived, but Darya knew she had to think farther and she was reminded of the conversation she had with Finnick on the train, the vow they had made to each other to not just survive but to live. But at what cost she thought, as she met Ron's stoic face and Finnick's worried eyes, how much would the sacrifice be.

"Dar?" Finnick inquired gently when she reached them by the elevators.

"Darya?" Ron said her name clearly but with his brow furrowed when she stopped moving.

"I still want to be me." Darya whispered quietly.

She saw Finnick reach his arms out toward her and Ron inhaling sharply as he grabbed at Finnick's wrist. Sighing tiredly, she side stepped both of them and walked inside the lift, closing her eyes as she waited for the others to come inside.

_Think ahead_ , she repeated in her head, _just think ahead_.


End file.
